Rose and trestle, support,
each other, red bud heavy,
it lays to woo on the wood.
Beloved in church, as white,
one wafer, is split now two,
both hands on, each to each.
It is a silhouette, moon light,
both within bound up, as joy.
The joy of the world, can ever
be known out side of it, inside.
Two paths on the same trail,
ache together, to come apart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is very good Keep up the grreat writing