In a romantic dropp of liquid
With waves to cloud the blazing
appled heart, There, you are
And here, I stand!
oh! come, springs that are blessed
From and above the streams that flow
To streams And dry not until
Thy bosom field is filled
And no more gladness to occupy thoughts
And minds in doubts unstill.
You that's near dear,
We even lost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem