My heart beats in a passion as though it is aflame,
As though it is pressed by the white hands of a dame.
Sing to my ears with thy honeyed tongue
I await thy words of comfort issued from the air of thy lung.
With thy voice (oh how classical it is!)
I know I am here, my life is not amiss
I’m loved! I’m cared! I’m defined!
Thy soul and mine are intertwined.
Say it to me, say it loud
I can’t hear with my head in a cloud.
Take my soul, my heart, my desire
See! How my tears are on fire!
Like no other you speak,
Thy words, they have never been weak.
Though they be the same
They call to me as if thou dost shout my name.
Say those three words,
The song of birds!
Alas, I feel my visage grow pale…
-Ding-
“You’ve got mail! ”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem