I write for her, for this and that
What sentiments of passion, wonder, and triumph"
Although how long will it take to realize
Perhaps a poem to my liking will suffice for a bit of grievance and hardship
If no words be spoken among the dormancy
Let words not be spoken
But be spoken for this intermission which should hopefully remain
Soon no longer
How ardent is this fondness
How sincerely can one yearn
What was once a condition of falling so frantically with knees brutally skinned in distraught frustrations
Is forcibly thrusted down in a jolt for such ardor and affection so genuine
The gentle hand that had, once upon a time, taken a poem
Is now nothing but a burdened heart of desperate prayer for acceptance
For, let us cherish this realization, that even a scarce quantity of words in response
Cannot do any justice to match the emotion of any sincere poetry
And will not only be sufficient
But abundant
To this honest aspiration of my heart
I write for her, for this and that
What sentiments of passion, wonder, and triumph"
Although how long will it take to realize
Perhaps a poem to my liking will suffice for a bit of grievance and hardship
If no words be spoken among the dormancy
Let words not be spoken
But be spoken for this intermission which should hopefully remain
Soon no longer
How ardent is this fondness
How sincerely can one yearn
What was once a condition of falling so frantically with knees brutally skinned in distraught frustrations
Is forcibly thrusted down in a jolt for such ardor and affection so genuine
The gentle hand that had, once upon a time, taken a poem
Is now nothing but a burdened heart of desperate prayer for acceptance
For, let us cherish this realization, that even a scarce quantity of words in response
Cannot do any justice to match the emotion of any sincere poetry
And will not only be sufficient
But abundant
To this honest aspiration of my heart
翻訳されて、しばらくお待ちください..
