To love I love again, to test, to be gay,
And further we gain sight of his heart.
My height of laughter is too high,
Gray and silver at times for too long, like clouds.
To like is to love the breasts of some simple men,
Towards this name is a building of trust.
My lightning bolt of trust can be dedicated to hate,
But it turns into love of the old and winter-like.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem