If my soul was to leave this body, would you set my love free?
Would you let your heart grow tenfold, making it big enough to weep?
What prejudice did she serve? That she had to be pinned on her knees.
An injudicious conclusion made by a deluded. Can't you hear your gods plead?
Why were you cursed with love, my dear?  If those hands could never dare to pluck her.
Her naked body, held in your lover's eyes. Staying adrift until you draw her.
If my soul were to ever leave, would you let her bloom like the Aster?
Let her bloom and scout every nook of your heart, and settle in the corner.
The aroma of her modesty will give you the courage to hold your lover's hand,
Kiss and touch the bare bodies until there is no goodbye traced on the palm.
And then when my soul finally peeks down from heaven,
It would look at two lovers, not strangers engulfed in regrets.
My body would prosper with glee, the eighth wonder of the world would be called love.
Then maybe and maybe it wouldn't be such a sad world to live on.