I can see that you are very similar to me,
and that you will bite the dust as well, however not today.
You, you of them all, disproportionate,
along these lines the hours are sparkling.
My dear, you are a concordance of individual, a number, a voice,
furthermore put, strawberries spread through your name
as though it were growing bushes, how you remind me
of a beautiful spring, the waters as cool and clear.
Furthermore you are a lily, an aster, white trillium,
alternately viburnum, by all rights mine,
white star in the glade sky,
the snow as of now arriving.
From its earthwards ventures, here where there is
no snow, you are my right,
now be my night and you tumble from the sky
with a few blossoms, words spill from your mouth in waves,
Your lips have an aftertaste like the ocean, salt-sweet.
Home is no place, consequently you,
a sort of stay and welcome, melody truth be told,
I am free with you. This is one of my many love poems for him from her.
