She thought that I
Was a simple servant
To hang a woman’s jacket
When she enters a room,
To remain downcast
Despite the aroma of her perfume.
I had no desire to undeceive her;
I happened to be there
To visit her husband,
A friend from a former life,
But once I saw his wife,
I had no intentions
To become reacquainted with him.
I gazed at the splendor of her hair,
The majesty of her shoulders,
The elegant way she walked.
I then took her perfumed jacket
Like an obliging servant
And swiftly slipped out of the house
With that jacket and my lovely thoughts.
Perhaps, in a few more years,
I’ll attempt to visit my friend again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Subtle, haunting, and poignant as the scent of the woman's perfume. No one speaks the language of romance better than you, my friend.10/10. Always, Sandra