If I become your poet,
Would you be my poem,
Will you be my kind of duet,
To dwell onto my palm firm,
Whilst we performed;

Would I be your quest,
That you would chase,
Chase after like a river,
That had found love with the sea;
Glued to its perfume;

If I become your poet,
Would you be my words,
That would melt my heart,
Like an iceberg,
Draining at it tips with chills of love.