You are a piece of jewel, deep fiery sapphire.

Maybe you are silver; perhaps you’re shiny gold.

Perchance you are platinum that people admire,

Or precious stone that men desire and want to hold.

Maybe you are ruby. In the depth of your eyes

Sparklingly shine every precious stone known to men.

But which one’s you? I can only hypothesize, 

I may venture a guess once and never again.

You must be diamond; you can’t be anything less,

One who’s bright sparkle shines aloof and high above…

One that men adore in its cool incandescence

And one, which in its cold pride never learned to love.

© P. J. Oszmann (January 1952 – in Hungarian; adapted into English 2003)

Yes, I really met a girl like that… I then married her…  (but that was just a joke), the truth is that:

This youthful piece was written approx. 4 years after a painful rejection by a young lady I was “desperately” in love with for about 5 long years and before I met my future wife. The actual “affair”  - 100% innocent by today’s standards, in as much as sex was not even thought of, let alone mentioned – lasted about 4 months, the rest of the 4 years and 8 months or so was just “suffering.” The only constructive and positive element in the whole affair was the birth of approximately 150 poems; some bad, some extremely bad and a few that one could consider passable. The original of the above one I would consider to be in that category. In the resultant English version I kept almost all descriptive elements and imagery intact, but, in order to do so, extended the number of syllables per line from 10 to 12 and omitted the young lady’s name, which was contained (as a form of Acrostic) in the first letter of the first line in each stanzas.