Deep into the night sings the nightingale,
The moon, sickle-faced, transforms everything to cold and pale.
The darkness has grown and grown from nights,
I am standing with someone in the candlelight.
She stands behind me, still as an idol she was,
Beautiful and vivid like stained glass.
Muted in complexion, sharp in features
She had been with me forever.
She is with me in the light
Though she needs the darkness to survive.
All through me sadness, all through my joy
Seeing me happily smile or sorrowfully cry.
Being with me as I socialize
Being with me in my most private reprieve.
She is me and I am she,
Both of us cannot be pulled apart and free.
Her presence alone leaves on my soul a beautiful mark.
She is my, only my, Shadow in the Dark.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem