One ordinary night, when you are playing with your fingernail
By the store, my dreary eyes are filled with seldom pleasure,
Of finding alone right before them a hidden treasure,
Proudly in triumph, as many a voracious eye fail
To discover man’s self-effaced worth. Yet let it be,
So selfish me can be your sole company.
But, alack, when finally my eyes are free to see thee,
And ears to hear love’s first symphony,
Thou look away, freely, the heavenly melody desists,
Restoring my ordinary life, where nothingness persists.
I agree with Will Barber 'you really are a poet'--I like this very much-Melvina
I liked this very much - but it should be thou 'look'st' - still, a poignant write. I'm going to bed now, but I'll read your other poetry later. You definitely are a poet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a sad moment, but perhaps these moments are just a fleeting part of our lives, not to be pursued. Delightful poem. Nicely captured. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX