WHEN from thy city comes blowing the cool wind,
Thy sweet memories begin to smell in my mind
Like a new-born rose; and a smile to dance
On my face pushing me into the world of romance.
A fresh zeal arises from the depths of my thrilled heart,
To write a passionate poem on thy every art-
And my heart wants, in thy love, a melodious song,
Sitting at the river bank, I may sing all day long.
O, love, how sweet! if even thou with me be there,
A fun might be created in the waves motion of the river;
I could be lost in thy intoxicating eyes, thou in mine,
No more pretty scene will be worth further to be seen.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem