Sonnet ; To My Love

No reference and footnote can ever come
  to mind for explaining how much I love you
     see, what I was before and now what I become
       I'm telling thou that truth all together what I knew
yours thought is like the shine of the sun
  that peeks between the leaves in this "autumn"
     what's the kind of joy I find with you, what the fun
        in beholding you from those window's little column
don't go there with this way, on this way
   there is an ant who hasn't remembered-
     his way. beneath you, he may die this day
        without met his beloved, under the same timbered.
Love can neither be created nor destroyed,
this will grow and glow even after we died.