Love comes in on an angel's wings,
but it lives in the heart of man.
An angel soars when it wishes;
A man only soars when he can.
Time's span is marked in ages hence,
Our ken is full bounded by space:
On our scale, near immutable;
On theirs, an ever-changing race.
When all that is, becomes is not,
And naught has a place to still be,
The distant swirl of nothingness,
Will contain only you and me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem