1.
When you said it was dawn,
I did not believe you.
I clung to the night.
2.
One can give perceptive credence
To truth dressed up as lovely fiction.
3.
I look at you
And my eyes have grown fingers;
I touch you
And my fingers have grown eyes.
I am Argus with myriad eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
All the three fancies are beautiful. I particularly enjoyed the second one!