I too got tired of giving flowers to gods of a dubious nature,

I was allways seduced by devils.

I still dare to sing like a bird.

To speak the language of love.

Wear Garlands on my head

I find my way to you through the rocks with my lyre to melt with you.

If it pleases you to see the garden is filled with your laughter.

Your kisses are there to move my passion in me at will, and your tears fall on the weeping willow.

To celebrate a new day.

It twists and turns.

Vincent Silvertop

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-returns-3/