He is more than a hero he is a god in my eyes— the man who is allowed to sit beside you — he who listens intimately to the sweet murmur of your voice, the enticing laughter that makes my own heart beat fast.
If I meet you suddenly,
I can't speak — my tongue is broken; a thin flame runs under my skin; seeing nothing, hearing only my own ears drumming,
I drip with sweat; trembling shakes my body and I turn paler than dry grass.
At such times death isn't far from me.
