poem with no name

I've spoken to you
very often before.
I've seen you sometimes.
I thought,
I knew you.
I've made me a pic
- my pic -
of you.
But now,
I've fixed,
that you're not the same
as my pic.
Now,
I've got to draw a new one.
But I like it.
This time,
I want to make a correct pic,
so that the old one
is frased completely.
Every time,
I've seen you,
I can go on drawing.
I like it,
to be with you.
By the time
more and more.
From minute to minute,
I like it more and more.
Sometimes,
I'd like to stop time.
But it wouldn't.
But I still have hope,
'cause you come back
and let me draw on.
CS (transl.:MZ)_