How one can decide how my day will pass,
with a smile,
How the joy of my whole day
I must seek in the whiteness of her eye.
How my sleeping heart must need to wake up,
her unasked permission.
How things take shape in the way I like,
When she likes them to be.
How the unseen string of her eyes arrests my soul,
setting rules for it to chastise.
How I must install her in the throne of my heart
Giving her that place of which I was the king.
How I must come out of my way
to tread backward,
Knowing that the same way long
I have to come back To catch the rhythm of my own pace.
How the mistake surpasses the right in attraction,
And I surrender myself before her mystic beauty.
How I must make her happy
so that I can have a share of that happiness,
How I must sell my heart in the open market
In exchange of a simple, meaningless smile.
How the foundation of my heart collaspes
Each time she attacks with her eye,
How I like to draw the comparision,
It falls like the Twin Tower all at once.
How is it that Beauty exists in her absolute shape,
that the more she is simple, the more she looks beautiful.
How one who attacks and who breaks
can be the same person;
How one lose the battle each time before it is fought.
How I want to come in her everyday simple thinking,
that if she forgets to forget and I am remembered once.
How I like to lose more than I like to win,
How I water the tree of my hope
so that I can cut it well when it is fully grown.
How the same thing may seem to be
blessing and curse both,
How logic and madness defeat each other
in the field of continuous battle.
How the image lies within the ball of my eyes,
and the worshiping goes on within the core of my heart.
How the softness within,
I must hide with the hardness without.
How I always remember that I must forget her.
How when she loves a little,
she hides it a lot,
How when she has much to say,
she speaks in the language of silence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem