I look into these new eyes.
Beyond them, farther.
My mind and heart arguing
the one with the other.
There are eyes skilled
in so truthfully lying,
expert glances in diguising,
wizards glimpses that turn themselves dim,
or shine, even change colour.
And just fine.
Me, once, so sure in choosing 'the very best'.
Now that I'm writting it, Honesty whispers to me:
'You see what you need to see,
your heart disregards the rest.'
La Finita
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a beautifully expressed poem of deep insight, sometimes illusion is the choice of preference when the souls need is better than perceptive reality