Your Voice

Passing the waves of turbulent colors

I hope to hear your sweet voice,

Which comes from the deep sky of the heart

And touches every star out there.

Passing through the vibration of strange waves -

I see the first glow of dawn,

I hear the first songs of morning birds,

I feel the touch of yours in the soft, cool air

And I wait to hear your voice.

You came and stood behind the curtain of fog,

A blurred appearance, like a mystery -

I could only see the curve of your sharp nose and chin,

Or was that just an imagination?

My heart is open day and night

To hear your sweet voice.