This boundless ocean, the world, we sail,
Where roses bloom with memories frail.
O' sparks of beauty, how I ache to see,
The light of your gaze, if it turns to me.

If your eyes rise, in their celestial grace,
The heavens would tremble, shadows erase.
My tongue, soaked in melodies sweet,
Would sing of your name in waves, complete.

Your smile, a garden where angels tread,
The key to paradise, the path we’re led.
The blood of my heart, like wine of the vine,
Pours forth in longing, forever divine.

Is this the miracle of your sacred face,
Or the world’s eternal, fleeting trace?
Tell me, beloved—who’s the bloom,
Is it you or I, in this garden’s room?

In the depths of thought, I wander lost,  
Seeking to measure thy beauty’s cost—  
Shall I weigh thy radiant grace in silver’s gleam,  
Or count thy tresses in golden beams?  

Yet within thy eyes, the universe resides,  
A realm unknown where truth abides.  
Shall I peer into that endless depth,  
Or hear the whispers from thy cheeks, where secrets slept?  

Before me, the cosmos unfurls its face,  
But in thy form, I find the same grace.  
Shall I witness the heavens in their endless flow,  
Or gaze upon thee, where divinity doth glow?  

In thee, such secrets are revealed so free,  
As roses dance in harmony with the sea.  
Thy beauty, a mirror of the divine,  
A pose so perfect, it transcends time.