When the candlelight with leaking tongues
falls orange over your body
with the moon
rising yellow-golden over the night,
when the stars glitter like diamonds
against the heavenly dome,
the odour of gardenia
glides sweet on the evening air
and in these silent moments
where your eyes secretly glows,
I know that I am living,
there is passion hanging over us
unembellished like electricity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem