Never a fruit, or treat or delight, held the
sweetness of your lips, that I hunger always to kiss.
When I sleep, from a foggy haze, a light appears,
as you come to me, in lands of dreams.
When the morning birds, do sing their songs,
you slide down a ray of sunshine and touch
my wanting lips.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem