My Wine
Whenever you come closer, my brain chimes,
Indicating to my heart: someone special's coming, someone lovable, who's mine—
Someone with whom the word "love" will rhyme,
Someone who can’t be described even in 100 lines.
Everyone wants that one person with whom they can spend some time,
Someone who can take the role of the sun and, in their dark times, shine—
Someone who can act as their wine,
Making them forget their sorrow and realize that everything can be made fine.
I'm lucky to have my wine, who's lavish and cold.
For her, my love increases every day as she grows old.
People sometimes say she's not the best fit for me, because she's not who she is and isn't real.
I'd like to inform them to stop advising me, 'cause I extremely love bittersweet wine, dear.
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