Our Love

Do you think my nib 

Waxes rhapsodic 

About your beauty? 

You are so immaculate 

That the moon even 

In her dreams

Doesn't want to take part 

In pageant with you.

Wearing the veil 

Of simplicity, 

You become my muse 

And whole world 

Becomes jealous with 

The jejune thought.

Though conspiracy 

Tries to separate us, 

The orenda overpowers 

The inauspiciousness 

And our love triumphs.