The Picture Poem by Octavian Cocos

Hidden somewhere, in a forgotten case,
Full of white dust and lonely as a ghost,
Lies an old picture, quiet in its place,
The one that in the past I liked the most.

I wanted many times to take it out,
Feeling that I was totally unjust,
But every night and day I was in doubt,
I didn't want to rummage in the dust.

And maybe in the darkness, every year,
The colors faded and I'm feeling sad
Because this picture, which I held so dear,
It might be tarnished, looking very bad.

But even if I leave it in its case
And it will never see again the light
It will remain, with its discolored face,
The picture that once gave me much delight.