Classic Poem

I apprehend You. The years pass by -
Yet in constant form, I apprehend You.

The whole horizon is aflame - impossibly sharp,
And mute, I wait, - with longing and with love.

The whole horizon is aflame, and your appearance near.
And yet I fear that You will change your form,

Give rise to impudent suspicion
By changing Your familiar contours in the end.

Oh, how I'll fall - so low and bitter,
Defeated by my fatal dreams!

How sharp is the horizon! Radiance is near.
And yet I fear that You will change your form.