Still applauding this love we made,
the afterglow still in our eyes,
the twilight pushes the night to fade,
to be replaced by the vanilla skies.
The killer easing pride and tenderness,
in busted colours of red and gold,
shall I fake this warm and sweet caress?
a tainted love estranged and cold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem