I think that love
is neither deaf nor blind
nor foolish nor brave
nor patient nor kind
I think that love
is neither quiet nor loud
nor gentle nor harsh
nor humble nor proud
I think that love
is neither envious nor vain
nor freedom nor abandon
nor prison nor chain
I think that love
is neither a blooming flower
nor a raging storm
nor a fleeting hour
I think that love
is neither a waking breath
nor a sleepy yawn
nor a kiss of death
I think that love
is how you make it to be
We'll find our own way
just you and me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem