The imagined shine seduced the eager eye,
A promise bright, yet never truly near;
It whispered warmth beneath a fickle sky,
And lured the heart to follow hope and fear.
We reached for gold that only gleamed in thought,
For brilliance built of longing, not of truth;
Its glow was borrowed, fragile, dearly bought,
A fleeting mask that mocked the ways of youth.
Yet in its fading, lessons slow appeared,
The mind unmasked, the heart no longer blind;
We learned that what was truly to be revered
Was not the shine, but what endurance mined.
For imagined light may charm and beguile,
But steady truth outlasts its fleeting smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem