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    (With love to V.K.)

    Your love for me is fading. It may not have been born long ago, it may have been only an imagined fantasy - if it ever lasted. I have been reduced to an aimless target, because I could not find you, and because you did not take the wise and wise will to seek me at all, though I thirsted for your existence like a hot sunset, with a wounded heart! And I could not get enough of it!

    Thy eyes, that never gave up Hope cherished, and, if need be, with tears of mirth at the betrayal of blood-pain, humble, charming, and telling- Our passion must have been but an undeveloped vestige, a stint on the altar of our deserved passions: how far faded in bloom our missed, yarrow-lived kiss-warfare: The charming and naive series Of child-kisses yet daring to believe 

    - I have held thy hands, though thy fragile bones were far from me, And know that our vulnerable consciences have too often been deceived and betrayed; - Around us, gently trembling tears, tiny meteors, asteroids, trembled, and when thy sprained, graceful, graceful, and foam-light ankles, as a helping shield, On the crevice of my shoulders, with calm will Thou mightst have rested! 

    I condemned, believe me, foolish ulterior motives! I have seen thee, with thy lovely lily-head, How and how the autumnal rays of the rain, With mischievous sweetness, caressing, how and how it beckons- Now, still, my silent tears, streaming after thee, are useless, and ever longing, With girlish delight, thou mayst return to me, But thy wedding-ring and thy adult voice of severity, with eloquent proof, Cut me to the orderly state of things, - I would not,

    I would not have thee hate me, for thou art still dear to me: The immortal Eternity may yet be opening its petals before thee: Our souls still tremble with murderous farewells, unforgettable memories...


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