I, bestow this delicate heart of mine to whom
     who really deserves it,
Let thee scrutinize me, before the verge of my beloved death,
Exquisite time travels fast; no one could deliver it back, then;
Let thee compromise thy mere words uttered by my tongue.

Into the horizon, my love will intertwine joy upon
     thy cold eyes;
Confusions shall subdue through the brilliance of the light,
Thy Windows of Heaven, will unfold thy truth for myriad
     of doubts
For each hemisphere shall listen upon my countless vows.

Into the horizon, nothing can stop every step taken
     towards thee
For I, will fight even at the darkest eve on the battlefield:
Yet if I lose, I forbid not thy tears a-falling on the ground
     to heave other,
Herewith, perhaps, thee haven't seen thy rose that
     will never wither.

For I, offer thy hearth of my life to whom who never bequeaths,
Let thee displays clairvoyance for the adequate reason
     I breathe;
Yet when the golden sun already descended below
     thy wonderful horizon,
Deciphering became dreary, for soon this agony will be gone
     to emancipation.