The existence of a thing is dream
An illusion to savor like a cream
But not until you taste its purity
Sense of touch makes reality.
The joy of beauty is a true bliss
An emotion to express like a kiss
But not after you execute by the lips
Sense of touch excites its every dips.
The pleasure of love is quite infinite
An intimate feeling clean and definite
But not when you express with a dearest
Sense of touch generates love as greatest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem