love makes us blind
and in equal measures
stupidly happy in ourselves
that in thoughts of another
those fears and delights
play upon each emotion
as a child would play
carefree, joyful, alive
as all a soul should be
love is a word
yet more than a word
it is an event horizon
an ever changing happening
for all we do not see
we do not wish to
it is in another's care
that desire ferments
to intoxicate the soul
beautifully happy are we
lovers of love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem