A MAN UNSKILLED IN LOVE

When I saw you, I wasn't in love, and I didn't know the scent of dreamy pink flowers.

When I see your eyes, the majestic waves of roses carry me endlessly, and I remember your words and feel the distant carnival notes in my heart.

Do you see the rituals of my vivid fields and my poems? They're all yours, and all thanks to you. I write only for you. 

Thanks to you, I knew the spirit of fragrant flowers and the magic of eyelids enveloped in ecstasy, but I am a man unskilled in love.

Yes, only with you did I know the scent of soft pink flowers, but I'm not skilled at love, and I know nothing of its dreamy smile and its hidden desires. I am so sad because I am truly a man unskilled in love.