Koi No Yokan

There is a sound when the bow 

strikes the strings like a soft hammer

which is like the resonance 

of the heart in its percussion 

one two, one two

and then the song lifts

like the lark on its pale wings

the violin sings with a voice 

as sweet as the syrup

of the maple with its bright leaves

as sweet as the kindness

that runs within you 

although you try to conceal it 

like the giant who hid his heart

in an egg, in a duck’s nest, in a well

in a church, on an island, in a distant lake 

that it might not be found 

I am not good at seeing 

I hardly remember a time before

blindness crept into my eyes 

and yet the truth of you shines

as clear to me as the heart’s music 

as gentle as the fabric of the sleeve

brushing against me 

with the premonition of ecstasy yet to flower

in the garden of the future.