Beneath the tender protest of stars, spoke your lips,
How they moan'd as life became a dream in your eyes,
Our eyes counted the months that sat on the edge of the universe,
The same stars that shown as ants, many and far as they spread as wide as the eye could see,
Were they asleep as we,
Ignited by a single thought of the bridge made from your hand to mine,
Could they too, feel as we felt,
A solitary kiss to ascend the pilars of God's shoulders,
Never to look away,
As the only fear is to let eyes close for a single moment, nonetheless a single pebble lost in a stack of many,
A second lips await the quiver sent from the moon,
Seeking refuge nowhere but the stratusphere of your touch
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Brilliant! I travelled places with this poem! It has a somewhat cinematic feel partaking of great romance!