I want to see you a thousand years up to the death,
I want to praise you in my arms until the last breath.
O my beauty, less to be defined by mortal words,
Let the moon be jealous of glowing you,
Let the mirror feel shy to copy charming you,
Let this mortal praise you with the lips of juxtaposity,
Let my words pen you with the golden ink of immortality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The classical and all-time desired emotions and devotions, I liked it.