My Torment

The english translation to a poem I wrote when I was in High School in French class that was originally in French.

You who haunt my dreams at night

and consume all my thoughts;

You who as clever as a thief

stole my heart and ran away,

teasing me ever so delicately.

My love-struck mind and spirit have been

turned into your shrine;

All that is done or thought out is you.

You, the air, the sun, my life, my world, my wings,

standing at an unreachable distance;

I am on a frozen stream, I run,

but still remain.

Like a child to a toy or a mother to a

newborn, you are the infamous

creature of whom I am adoring of.

You are an incurable disease

that I have been infected with,

leaving me nothing bt pain and

sadness and a single-but spacious-

ray of bliss and hope;

You are my astonishingly addicting torment.

Reviews

[ron]

Wonderfully written. You described how poetry effects me some times, how sometimes my need to write it consumes me completely.