There is a song floating everywhere
Over the high seas, meadows and valleys
Over fields and hanging in the flowing air
That love is not true not even pure
It flits from heart to heart like a selfish
Imposter and it is a sore without any cure
The song is sung by a heart very sad
Love is like just a whiff of breathe and
Leave the mourners for several times dead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem