Oh, champion of the upturned nose, half-smile,
tilted head and knowing look,
how is it that you can read me so well?
It can't be in my eyes, they are closed to the world.
It can't be through my words, only temporary,
yet you remember the past, present, and future of my lips.
There's no other explanation:
You are some missing part of me
that sees all,
hears all,
knows all.
We are but one heart and it beats to our time,
until the end of time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i didnt understand it fully... if ever you have time read mine 'Anger'