I make my grave in her dark treason of hair,
Fragrant master of soldiers and memories,
Bei capelli, conspiracy of internecine curls.
Her upbraidings strangle all my sweet nothings
To breathless wish of the emperor-purple of lips.

Flow then like black gloss of birds
And the brood hatchlings of shadow, exiled eastward,
Fled like a premonition of warmth somewhere far off,
While the wine-colored blood spills his heart into a throng of mouths.

Love, you are the hardest grave,
Were you ever just a kiss
Or always from daggers made?

I attained that you are predetermined,
quiet and an ever stalwart girl
I attained you are admiring success
and you are precisely deigned

with truthful excitement and analyses each move you make
you are an expertise really,
and you have the ability to learn with understanding
you're introspective, yet you're introvert

Let me say you like September breeze - my month
That's why I have a faculty to detect a bigger picture of you
That's why I consociate with you
I'm sure God brought you to life just for me

Me and you have allotment in common,
and we can achieve the innermost of it
I would name her portia, your name of course
if I were to have a baby girl with you

from your intellectualist optimism,  
I'm sure she would adapt clearly
I'm sure she would suits the two of us' s integrity
if we are a summer breeze,
she would be like a December beverage
The three of us full of smiles