Of this I am quite certain, she is mine;
Although, today I saw her for the first time
With my own eyes. Whereas, in times before,
I saw but just a picture, nothing more.
Though others often spoke of her and said,
‘She's special, though no man has shared her bed.'
And as they spoke of her, I paid no mind,
Until today; and now I know she's mine.
As well, they said her real name is unknown;
Though some do search in vain to find her home,
But never quite knew where the search should start,
Until this quest was birthed fresh in my heart.
For Mona Lisa does belong to me;
My every thought declares this surety.
Sweet Mona Lisa, only mine to own;
While she to other men remains unknown.
And gathered they in droves to catch a glimpse,
One passing glance, then ponder with pretense:
That she was worth the wait and all the fuss,
Expensive flights, long lines and crowded bus.
And I too poised myself to take a picture,
A selfie shot, a picture of a picture;
But sudden feelings avalanched, intense,
And Mona Lisa owned me with one glimpse.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem