From Quote To Project!

A little less than a year ago I started reading "Kjærlighedens Gjerninger" (Works on Love) By Søren Kierkegaard. 
I came across this quote which has been been stuck in my mind since then. I wanted to develop a project based on it as I wanted to share its truth and beauty with others.
Ever since I have been trying to figure out what would be the best way of getting across this message, and lately I have devoted most of my time to finishing this project, which I soon will be able to share with the rest of the world. 
First here is the quote in the original danish version and after my personal English translation for those who don't speak Danish.  

"Men hvert træ kjendes på sin egen frugt, saaledes ogsaa Kjerligheden på dens egne, og den kjerlighed, om hvilken Christendommen taler, paa dens egen frugt: at den har Evigheden sandhed I sig. Al anden Kjerlighed, hvad enten den, menneskeligt talt, tidlig afblomstre og forandres, eller den elskeligt bevarer sig I timelighedens aarstid: den er dog forgængelig, den blomstre kun. Dette er just det skrøbelige og det vemodige ved den, hvad enten den blomstrer en time eller 70 Aar, den blomstre kun; men den kristelige kjerlighed er evig. Derfor vil ingen, hvis han forstaar sig selv, vil falde paa at besynge den. Thi hvad digteren skal besynge maa have det vemod, som er hans eget Livs Gaade: maa blomstrer, og hvad der blomstrer det forgaaer, man hvad der er kan ikke besynges det maa troes og maa leves."

"But every tree is recognized by its own fruit, thus as well love on its own, and this love, on which Christianity speaks, on its own fruit: that it has the truth of eternity within. Every other love, whether it humanly speaking, early withers or changes, or it is lovingly retained in the temporal season; it is but perishable, it only blooms. This is just its fragility and sadness, whether it blooms for an hour or 70 years, it only blooms; but the Christian love is eternal. Therefore no one will, if he understands himself, think of praising it. For what the poet must praise must contain this pathos, which is the riddle of his own life: will bloom, and what blooms must vanish, but what is cannot be praised it must be believed and must be lived"