When the yearning comes, full of fantasies,

I look under my sheets for you

in the chiaroscuro in the morning

 

A red rose burns in my belly

my five senses feel the scourge of a feverish passion

you bloom in my thoughts

 

Addicted to you, I encourage myself to believe

that you also desire me

and the storm rolls over my skin,

soaking me from my soul to my bones

it is my cross with open arms

 

Everything is tiny in sight of this zeal!

 

Is it love longing to have you,

longing to kiss you,

longing of feeling  you unbearable?

 

Is it love?