I would, if I may,
describe you this very day.
Eyes that the gods are jealous of
a fire within that can be seen
from heavens above.
She is a fountain of life
I drink from her
day and night.
Caressing her curves
both tender and harsh
She is the fuel for my fire
She burns with desire
I become ash at Her touch
In your eyes, I become complete
from a thousand fruitless searches
to find Your eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I think my keyboard will become wet soon. I blame it on this poem. :) Fine piece.