I looked at her under the light of heaven,
came from the horizon fiery and hot,
and under her lashes shaded
two melancholy eyes,
sweets like blackberries.
Her lush hair was carried by the wind,
like peonies pink on a silk scarf,
stroking the emerald necklace around her neck.
In your contagious sorrow,
I jumped again and again,
hoping to infect me too.
I create as a being tortured and irrational,
in sets of agonizing shadows,
to rationalize you with endless kisses
and tangential views.
something unattainable for my mind,
and enough for soul restlessness,
as much as your longing for greater grace,
and questions invented
which completely exhausted you.
Let me create your poetry
for your heavenly and ureal beauties,
to find them in non-existent words,
just to strip your soul,
on a plain sheet of white paper.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem