The shortest path between two hearts:
Two arms
That reach out and every so often
Can only touch with fingertips.
I run to where the stairs are,
Waiting is time’s show of strength;
I cannot find you I’ve arrived too early
It’s as if a rehearsal is taking place.
Birds have flocked together migrating
I wish I loved you only for this.
translated by Omer Kursat
That last line appears in a couple of his poems. It is rather haunting…
You’re right. It is.