There stood before me 
Is the object of my desire? 
Anxiety running through me, 
I feel a flame of loving fire.
I see a shadow coming closer
I don't want to be frighten, 
But my heart is the prey to desire
And I am the hunter's victim.
Now so close I smell the flavour, 
Tearing at my heart into what I want, 
To take my fill of this desire, 
And I am still been hunted.
I fall into a deadly path of excitement, 
Trembling more with fear than fantasy
Standing on the edge of descent, 
Set down into a life of reality.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    