Urban spaces,
Sweet-smelling cinnamon;
And like a memorial to the muse of your love,
But a fragrant blend of incense is waiting for you.
A perpetual agreement,
From generation unto generation;
But the image of your love is hanging all over my house!
And like the muse of 'Florence Nightingale' in my backyard,
But i will always respect my mind to lead me on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem