Sometimes I see your face so plain.
On stormy days I see it wet with rain.
I see your eyes playing tricks on me
and it's folly to pretend to be
unnoticed when they're staring at you.
Oh that these moments would not be few.
Sometimes I can't see your face so plain.
It's on these days I feel the pain.
I can't see your smile.
It's turned into a frown
and it's a frustrating loss that brings me down.
unsatisfied and despondent that this can be.
I fling myself into this mystery.
Why can't I picture you all of the time?
Sometimes I feel as if I'm blind.
There are too many women with tears in their eyes
and too many men that will never realize
the depths of the feelings women undergo.
Not seeing your face always sends me too low.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem