Dzhejkob Emerson

My voice for you, so tender and so languorous,
Disturbs the silence of the night time darkness.
I am in bed, the candle by my side
Is burning sadly; and my poems flow and slide,
Like springs of love they `re filled with you, my dear,
Your eyes, they glisten right before me here,
They smile, and I can hear the sound of your voice:
My friend, I love you... I am yours... I am yours...