First
time I
view
mountain
tops cloudless,
the sun
on
snow blinds
me, yet I
miss mystery
of the mist-
clothed peak,
that
reminds
me of the
hidden
One
that I
seek.
the hidden, the unknown, the distant, the incomplete...that's what call us...and haunts us.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lillian you're a real poet who loves to capture beauty and is enthralled with what you cannot understand or possess.