Some one has
secretly kissed my hands,
and left in my core,
a seed of love.

Some one has
secretly stolen my tears,
and left in my eyes,
a fountain of hope.

Some one has
secretly caressed my hairs,
and left in my temple,
a crown of warmth.

Some one has
secretly read my poems,
and left in between the verses,
a fingertip of her smiles.

Some one has
secretly whispered in my ears,
and left in my mind,
a zephyr of waltz.

Some one has
secretly fragmented my years,
and left in my soul,
an eternal coy of youth.

Some one has
secretly sang my songs,
and left in the chorus,
a cadence of the wedding bells.

Ah! I know not, who is she.
I don’t know,
whether she is real
or just a fleeting reverie.

If you see her, my lord,
please tell her this:

I shall pluck a star
from the sky
and would lay it
in the pupil of her eyes
without clouding
the sky, and would
leave myself from me,
if I were to hold her
in my arms evermore.