The phantom figure appear,
Through the fog, we found it clear,
The sudden flash distracting eyes and ears,
Around the bend came to persuade tears,
They fall in feverish unrest,
And came in tragic passion and zest,
From the radiant point to myth and mystery,
Striving to see through the deadly dark of humanity,
The dull pain starts, then loiter for a moment.
With forest eyes depart in slower vision went,
The phantom kisses the sky smeared with dew
And the lingering fragrance it was of you,
The sweetest moisture in the air,
Perfume the trees and everything near,
And I sift this shade in hidden wind,
Peering through where the phantom went,
With beauty that must dine and go,
On the cold hillside my staved lips glow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem