That day we ran through the feild of hay,
was the same day that I'd never change in any way.
As perfect as everything had come to pass,
we both knew...time wouldn't let this last.
The fire burns in the pit below,
we cuddle for warmth in the fires' glow.
Roasting a mellow to satisfy our hunger,
in the far distance we hear the thunder.
On the path to the cabin, we walk to get dry,
inside on the bed, laying, with you by my side.
Falling asleep, you in my arms,
dreaming of the day, i first tried you to charm.
Goodmorning my dear the storm has expired,
we head way back home, for a week from now,
we'll be sitting at our fire.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem