When no word remains with me,
Long enough to call my own,
And it is as soon repeated
As away from me flown,
I ask myself,
Was it my invention?
I might strike the proper note
And set the air quivering
With heart-ache's antidote
But love has wings to fly,
Scarcely a moment on earth,
Fluttering things take to the sky,
Dabbling the air with mirth...
You cannot capture one
Or joy will soon run away,
But you may hold in your palm,
A feather pricked today...
If love seems out of sight,
Recall a tune or a word,
Sliding down an aura of light,
A tremor from a bird...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very nice poem Romeo, I loved the first lines 'when no word remains with me, long enough to call my own ' beautiful description, thanks for shearing :)