Here is another poem, written in Elizabethan English though.
‘Twas the song of a solitary nightingale,
The sadness and beauty satiated the air with warmth.
Ne’er hath this heart within me been so lively,
As when thou looked into mine eyes and saw my soul.
Oh, this evanescence of beautiful dreams,
Had they lingered even the length of a moment longer,
Their beauty would have faded into the night,
Leaving a soft mist in place of these dreams of mine heart.
When I dream of thee in the wisp of the night,
I feel thy presence around me, e’en in mine heart.
And I wish the night stretches on for eternity,
That I might feel thy friendship wrapping around me always.
Thou art the cherry blossoms in early spring,
Showering this earthen beauty with thy soft petals.
The branches heavy with thy goodness and love,
And a promise, in the heart of thy admirer, for a new dawn.
The reflections on the flowing river, of a sun recently risen,
The birds singing their morning songs of joy.
Unquenchable thirst for time to come to a standstill,
Mine heart divided between my wish and the will of thy mind.
Thy voice lingers in the air, my thoughts inundated by thee,
My voice beckons thee to hold me in thine arms.
I wait, eagerly, desperately, to hear the faintest reply,
But the silence, so deafening, returns me not a sound.
The moonlight illuminates, when the sun hath set,
Only thy voice can brighten the shadows of mine heart.
Silently I pine in the darkness, for a glimmer of light,
Fading, falling, into these endless depths.
If thou hadst known the turmoil of mine heart,
Would thou hast left me more than the touch of thy breath?
Nay, to thee, I was but a stranger, no different from another
To me, thou wast mine only reason to smile.
You can find this on my blog at: Unrequited