Meeting with My Love,
Yesterdays won't stay;
Feelings, like a dove,
Flying all away.
Burning deep desire,
Every hour now on;
Bringing these feelings higher,
Until the burning's gone.
Meeting with a touch,
Hearts tender and wide;
Each saying so much,
In their lost flight.
Bright clear new sky,
Coming after dark;
So we both can fly,
Sing on like the lark.
Meeting with your heart,
Bringing down the cold;
Knowing where to start,
So it can't burn up, or grow old.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem