i want to say in simple terms
the full extent of my love for you--
the sun could not compete in its burn,
the bird's morning song could not be more true;
the cicada's crow falls short in fervor
and the moon's light cannot be as gentle.
this heart remains stubborn and will not waver
for of you it has its complete fill.
though, perhaps, the sun's light shines more close
and the bird's free flight is nearer
than i, who hovers like a ghost;
how silly it is that i consider you dearest...
in simple terms, i love you honest,
though all i can do is pine and write sonnets.