Love will pour river water into the mouth,
In a slumbering delight, the soul is sold.
By the jewellery of hell and always of devils,
The beads of love are counted by all us angels.
On the calm white skin, the great veil is lifted
And we count more beads of love to enlighten life.
We sing and the woods sing, feeling sleep
In a second, fully counting the beads of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem