108. Intermezzo
Just another poem
while I wait for you,
a vain outsider
who believes in what they say
when people make appointments
and who faithfully
is rather soon than late
and rather punctual than runs the risk
of missing someone who might come
and waits for those who don't,
and thus I have been waiting all my life
for ladies who have never come,
for answers that were never made,
but I don't care,
for I can wait forever
for my love, if she is honest –
that is all that counts,
the only definite priority,
the first and last and only true criterion of love,
that you can trust her honesty,
so that you can yourself be honest;
for honesty is all that lasts –
one word of honesty is more worth
than a load of novels full of speculations,
since the highest proof of honesty
is that it, even if it's silent,
speaks much more than words.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2006-08-28 at 12:18
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