Days passed by, uneventful, yet filled,
With passionate expectations of souls,
Time grouped these days as unromantic,
I called these days, stairs in a tall ladder.
When approached you, Oh’, the young soul,
You made that ladder grew many more stairs.
Earth gone far, so the Sun and Moon in orbits,
Fear all around grew about running out of stairs.
When with love from you I detached,
A sea all around me with roaring waves I felt,
Making me an Island, none knows but my heart,
And the essence of the feeling in that heart I wrote.
Everyday when you read what I write,
Ah’ one by one those stairs from above lost,
The ladder became a moving stair, a smaller one,
Do you feel the love of yourself in the verses you read?
Or do you only feel the verses as blabbering,
Of a man to himself in romance to you, unkind?
Ah’ the unkind man find no pleasantness in fear,
Fear of losing your love from the verses he writes.
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