Dear friend, or would you call it haste
If I address you thus as yet?
For while I know we have not met,
I feel as though I know your face-
Though not from memory of a place
For that would I surely not forget.
Still, 'stranger' seems an epithet
For you ill-fitting and misplaced
I watched you with interest when you came
Deciding then I did intend
My hand in friendship to extend
And ask, if you should do the same
If I, for mine, might learn a name
By which to call you, if not 'friend'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.