Your deep eyes, clouded with the sea
Will always be a mystery;
Though never have been close enough,
To tell, if waves be calm or rough;
As changeling ocean's wont to be
It's own becoming history:
Upon your shores, my fledging mind
Seeks for others, of it's kind
It has not learned to gauge the level
Of the water's teasing bevel,
And fear's the water's liquid mind
Would all the hidden secrets find:
Forgive me, while I wade in slow,
Worried about under-tows;
And time and tide confusion reign,
While the rivulets wax and wane-
Like magic spell, upon me cast
My certain future, kiss your past.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
such a beautiful metaphor. gives me alot to think of in terms of how much i let myself live and how much i can't see or fail to experience