If the hand is no longer able to write,
let the heart translate his own language.
If the night is no longer quiet,
let my mind meditate himself
didn’t make me tired making imagine of you
when boisterous winds from the east
Your love made me strong again,
when I fell from wound of love
when I no longer believe love
when I began to hate love
don’t waste my love, please
who am I?
Only a small bug wish to get a rose from the palace
where the knights of bug surround you
wish miracles approached
biting with you in true love