Till the morn my dear, I fear.
Your paddles laid and your boat is here.
The wind is rife, and the sail is white,
To journey yonder and out my life.
Within the boughs, the bell still chimes,
Counting seconds until that time,
And with each strike, my heart tears more
To cast the shadow and invade my core.
For at the window I shall stand,
And in my heart I take your hand
In rain, in storm, in love, forlorn.
To you my dear I give the gift,
Undying love and just one wish
And with the wish I know you’ll choose
And with my love you’ll never lose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem