On the evening sky the memories run,
Chasing the moments that never begun;
A picture perfect paints my heart,
Tending to love is more of an art.
Sitting on a hill beneath a tree,
With the swinging grass binding the free,
We stare at the river flowing softly by,
As in a deep embrace our bodies lie.
A falling star dazzles my soul,
Bringing me back to where I was before;
From dreamy eyes a tear drips,
And ends in a prayer on my lips.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem