You passed from me
to memory,
with an ease I could not bare.
You slipped,
to silent fantasy
upon a parting stare.
Then breathless as a runner
or a swimmer out at sea,
I struggled with this fantasy
of time and fate and me.
Until my voice was madness
I'm distorted into a fool,
but to you, casual observer
who, free from battles rules,
just sees someone crying
for someone they knew and loved,
and could not reconcile their parting.
Because
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
liked this smiffy