The mind and heart sustain contusions
By jumping to the wrong conclusions
And intellect, perhaps, divines
Too much by reading twixt the lines
When aim and end you think you know
A kiss may hurt more than a blow
If I sent roses, newly born
Would you, .dear friend, see but the thorn?
Love the last line, sent a rose would you see the thorn. How true of some.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Just Excellent! Nothing more that I can say! Love Ernestine XXX