it's been a long time, i wait for someone's comimg. 
a ship rests in the harbour, waiting for the high tide.

i wait for him to reach out his arms,
speak gently : "Finally, you arrive here."
soon, he might make a sweet complaint.

perhaps he already made efforts to walk across the railway station, shopping mall, tropical island and plain...
but i was sleeping in some invisible mornings,
reluctant to approach his stormy desire.

perhaps, under some exotic windowpane,
while i was sipping a cup of coffee, cutting a newspaper,
he already waited on the edge of my dream,
ready to jump into the pool of my floating fantasy.

i once met him time to time,
he showed up as the images of a king, a beggar, a knight, a Casanova, even a murder.
it's difficult to distinguish who he is,
since i am still looking for his true face.

such a long time, no mercy,
i wait for his coming, as if a train delays for many years.
the days are aging, roses are fading,
but love is hiding as a child that no one can't find and reach.