I will burn with fire,
By the hands of your whisper,
I will drown in the water,
Of your long arms around my neck,
Don’t say another line,
Or I will also burn with water,
At the landscapes of your gardens,
Will your flowers save me?
Will you tell me a story?
Of love and glory?
Or a piece of story?
Will you recognize me,
Inside the ice melting at your door?
Because if not, don’t say another verse.