Precisely how far can the nightingale fly
Bearing the melody of my love to supply
For whom my soul pines in all its fervent
Yet each time the eyes refuse to consent

To confront those braided angelic curls
Radiating perfection, glimmering pearls
The smile of whose a tender brilliant art
Impeding the course of blood to my heart

Like oceanic waves she skims across
The blazing street turning sweet frost 
Oh dickens just how herculean I find
To convey what governs all humankind

Oh so naturally the old stalwarts confessed
All pure emotions they so freely expressed 

Deliriously how even at instances I pursue
Plagued by passions so hard to subdue
Still hold back as she walks past so soon
Beguiled by such sight, naturally I swoon 
Like a partridge gazing the brilliant moon

For even if the mountains lose hold of winter snow
Embrace they so subtly the arrival of spring glow
And whilst an ambrosial aroma often ceases to exist
Its sweet taste in memory forever continues to persist

Ironically unfortunate though presently seems my state
When to burn mercilessly in love appears to be my fate 
For even as play all chords and rhymes unfeigned
Falter I each time, lost, in a silent voice exclaim

How fervidly I shall wait for all ages to pass
Let the cities be toppled by tufts of grass
And beneath that endless cloud dappled sky
Where oceans shall roar, no soul would cry
Divine virtues shall complement sunrise 
Liberated such shall be our paradise 
All my years shall pass where
So closely embosomed in thine
One where each thy breath I endeavor 
Would so chastely melt in mine...