[Ce poème a d'abord été écrit en français, puis traduit en anglais] This is a random poem I wrote in prose, the other day. As with most of my poems, it deals with pain and loss. In this case, unrequited love, to be precise. It's quite personal since all I've ever known in love was unrequited. I wrote this one night, as I was feeling this way and was trying to put this on paper in order to get rid of the feeling. And as mentioned in the poem, yes, I do play the harp outdoors and am a night owl. It's not just for the poem's Romantic aesthetics or something. I first wrote this poem in French, and as with all of my poems, I then translated it. I don't have a language of choice when it comes to poetry, I just write whatever I want when inspiration strikes and then translate the text into French or English so as to share it with a broader audience. I like the idea of translating my own works, with subtle differences in vocabulary, like I crafted a coin with two unique sides.