Beneath the shadows of dusk, in a dance of veils and mystery
Beneath the shadows of dusk, in a dance of veils and mystery,
Lies a hidden story, unknown to the waking eye.
A leaf gets lost in the forest, a book in the library,
And a lifeless body finds its place on the battlefield.
But I, I hide in the everyday, in the banality of day-to-day life,
In the evident common words, in the flight of wandering phrases,
Becoming invisible, lost in the veils of life.
Sometimes you draw near, only to find me further away,
Like a grain of quartz on the vast beach, a shimmering spark,
Rolling like a coin into the crevice of the horizon.
Or perhaps I rise, expanding like the boundless sea,
Growing so much that no gaze can encompass me.
Yet I cannot remain hidden in a world too vast,
Only in motion, in the flow of thoughts, in the current of the night.
The ghost of consciousness—a heavy inheritance—betrays me even in sleep,
Revealing myself to me, even when I believe I am hidden.
Should I seek refuge in the fleeting present or perhaps in the future—
More certain, as it always stays afar, never truly arriving.
In these words, at last, I conceal myself,
Yet why do you see me today?
To be lost, so as to be found.
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