You’re someone else, somewhere else again.
And you’re fanning away my words with a gentle, inattentive breath.
but I didn’t call to be angry.
I can’t be.
You’ve told me I’m beautiful…And the Moon is out.
And I wonder if that’s where you are, my friend.
I could forgive a stargazer,
A wandering eye for constellations.
I could forget an intimacy
With the Milky Way, and,
how could you have resisted Venus orbiting across your window there?
I, after all, haven’t been faithful ceaselessly.
I play around between the sheets
Of paper, spare and scattered.
I have love affairs, deceiving my pen for my pencil.
And I wonder, maybe, if his imagination doesn’t roam so easily.
If you were somewhere else,
in the nest of heaven,
Stretching your soft, feathery wings
To learn how to fly back to me, through the blue and gold.
I could have pardoned your
inattentiveness,
Your selfish need and frustrating logic.
Perhaps you’re out there as I’m in here,
Where the moon circles across the window everywhere.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful piece with a splendid flow.