What is a poet? An unhappy person who conceals profound anguish in his heart but whose lips are so formed that as sighs and cries pass over

What does it mean to be in love? I struggled with this question and the following questions presented. I'd like to believe in a love that is eternal like the one shared between a father and a son, mother to daughter, or that which is shared in any long term relationship, and report to others that this is the manefestation of authentic love. But I question if this is always the case. How then does a love that was once expressed authentically find its end? If love exists then what reason lay behind the existence of infedelity? Then I reflected on some of Kierkegaards parables and came across a quote (found in the title). Just as the poet finds his suffering transformed into the beautiful music that is his poety; so too, the individual, who is not versed in the art of poetry, find his suffering transformed into works of love. It must be the case then that love is the manefestation of a shared anguish. True love, soulmates, love at first sight, all of which I believe can exist. We know they exist because we experience it and can identify it in other. There are many different forms of love just as there are many different forms of poety... my thoughts on love from a person who has, is, and will be in love.