Before said words, came the notion,
From her eyes, a poetic devotion,
To a timid boy, with love sky-bound,
He’d whisper through ink, keeping her sound.
She’d trace like patterns, upon a new page,
Then send it his way, though mail could not gauge,
The pulsing heart of a poetic lover,
How ink spells I love you, compared to no other.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem