You were not the first one, were not the last one,
but somewhere in between… you still are.
You see, this is not poetry –
no, this is a letter to you,
you, whom I feel tonight
as I have for only a brief moment.
With my tears
all the love I cannot give to you
is pouring into universe.
To you that I’m hiding
to keep at least what I have.
It hurts, the part of me
that is you – it hurts so much I cannot breathe.
I wasn’t more sincere with anyone,
yet I didn’t hide more from anyone either.
I was travelling across the shores of love
that could not be stronger,
I’ve crossed the seas of passion…
but still, somewhere in between… you still are.
I’ve told you as I haven’t to anyone before,
but I haven’t told you what was true the most.
If you’d ask me, I might even deny it.
I might. But I know you never will.
I can barely remember, how…
I’m lying. Maybe I don’t remember,
but through all days and nights
I still feel
that fleeting moment of you…
Maybe we never were
and I don’t want to believe we will never be,
but somewhere in between… you still are.
You are still in my days and nights,
yours are still my tears and my laughter,
my pain and my joy…
I’m still yours.
Alenka H., 2000-2010, translation