At sight, my love may seem like a seed
At smell, its that alike a fish
At touch, its thorned like a rose
and at sound, there is none
Its bitter at taste, and obscure like night
But know, there is much more-
Once, it does allow someone in-
where this chance is slim
it begins to sing
and all the obscure becomes bright
and becomes the taste of honey dew
Then there is a sound, like a nightingale
a sound that makes the heart stop
almost like the sound of death, but life all inwined in stillness-
And when i get the chance to kiss the lips,
My heart is one with yours
And all the odious dries away and becomes what is you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem