The guy in the red sweater
posted up at the high table across from my booth
watched me as I struggled my way through tables
past wet signs and on-lookers
as his eyes followed, his mouth parted slightly
as if it was somewhere between awe
and forming a sentence
when I made it to my seat however,
his eyes diverted back to his phone
and a few minutes later
a girl arrived at his table
I heard him as he spoke to her
with a smooth silky melodic tone
I'll admit, I was impressed
without ever having the courage to meet their eyes
because with such a short distance
they would surely notice
and my eyes, would be clear windows
to my thoughts, my intentions
the kind a person should never have
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! This is an intimate poem which reveals to the reader the very thoughts you guard and do NOT reveal to the man or woman. You describe this scene with sharp details that make a stranger into a familiar. That's awkwardly put by me but it happens gracefully in the poem. There are three descriptive passages that I love: his mouth open between awe and speech - you phrase it brilliantly! Second, the effect of his silken voice on you and the discipline you must exert to keep it private. Third, your awareness of your desire which cannot be expressed even in the poem. There's something sacred here - a desire that must remain veiled, but still a genuine deeply felt emotion conveyed to reader and self alike. This is a remarkable poem of our interior lives, so rich as they are in feelings and desires, and that interiority is not about action in the world but rather about deep emotion in our psyches. This is bittersweet and beautiful poetry.