I look through the camera's reflections
lost to the days of the past
Poorly framed moody conceptions
Is there no other way to look back?
Now weathered the body seems jaded
wed to a lense that saw true
Dressed for the wind and the weather
Your photos just hint at a view
Follow me down my lost journeys
Gather an image or three
Squint and you almost look through me
but try not to see only me
Remember the eyes that beheld you
ravishing beauty so new
I'm falling in love with the holy
in all that I pictured of you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem