The garden of love is gazing at me from within,
Gold and diamonds are contained within the pillars.
A fountain rests atop a stop, and willing leaves are afoot,
Breaking, bursting from within like a heavenly sport.
The garden of colourful love abides without the key,
To this house is a key but not the garden.
Let gazers of the stars behold this garden and call it star,
Piercing and resenting, it salivates and embellishes.
The dogs are absent as messengers arrive from sea,
Waking up waves, weakening their slaves as the sea sways.
My gauntlets are fit for kings, queens will be onlookers,
As gardens grow giants and elves within, like withering leaves.
This garden is guardian of us, our sorrows subjugate,
As everything is saved by the royal household.
Piercing and bright, a rude man accuses you of hatred
And envy, as a bright star fixes its stare at the garden.
This is the garden of love, that revels absorbingly,
Accusers dive into the deep waters, relishing their keep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem