Aletheia looked into my eyes
and I could not avoid her stare.
Her silence a grim accusation
as I shifted uneasily in my chair.
No words escaped my lying lips.
No words could change my fate.
All men are confronted by the truth
Be they small or great.
Aletheia, you see, would be my judge;
such was my despair.
I looked again to see her face
and saw mine own image there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem