Obscure and beautiful,
sometimes I feel I know you.
Then again you are unknown.
Hidden I observe you.
Drop my eyes when you look on me.
My formless icon I remember you,
from brief glimpses.
Short encounters etched in my heart.
So many times I have pleaded wordlessly,
for you to smile on me.
Perhaps the glasses on your eyes were thick,
or I was too plain.
Long years I have sought you,
struggled in desperate helplessness.
Dearly as I would love it.
I still cannot say;
my Truth, you are mine still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
musical and soft to feel.. great!