Louve Poem


In full life I have one regret
That is to be the fact
That you and I never met.

Eighth, Ninth and Tenth,
Three years I spent
Waiting and waiting but still
My dreams were never filled.

Yet memories of you I cherish
Like a red red rose,
Which I will never dispose,
Until the day I perish.

When we will meeting
After how many years
That also I am not knowing

But I’m sure that the seed I planted
Will one day growing.