Beauty holds ignorant Eyes,
they are narrow, shallow corridors.
To those impaired orbs,
I become transparent, nonexistent.
Yet, there is a more terrible loneliness alive in myself,
in the many things I see.
Many estranged species,
Nod quietly to this confidential Confession.
A hidden depression.
Question your coveting.
Then someday realize
Arrogance, holds ignorant Eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice piece of work. Thanks for sharing it with us. E.K.L.