Which marks on these lips.

Which tears in these eyes.

To love once. 

To cry once.

The pain follows in keeping the love, forgetting the past.

Suddenly, weariness and pain in my heart.

Suddenly,  a deep melancholy rising in the soul. 

O! I’m just like a little bird lost in the wide world.

O Faithful love, will just then be  smoke and mist.

And loving memories – only a fading dream. 

To love one day.

To cry one day.

Dreaming of you each night,

with  acute longings in my heart.

Feeling the sorrow covering the four skies.

Love, although weary, continues on in the sad abyss of life.

Is there a region of repentance in this heart.  

To know love is to cry,

but why do we keep worshipping love. 

To know love is to live in sorrow,

but why do we keep wanting pain.

To know love is to die,

but why does Love always fill our hearts. 

To know love is to be jealous,

but why do we keep wanting bitterness.

Which love is not passionate. 

Which love is not hurting.

To love a lifetime.

To cry a lifetime.

A wonderful infatuation.

The painful, yet sweet fragrance of Love.

O The Wounds of the Heart.

Then, the flying clouds hug the precipice of Sorrow.

And then one day, Desolation comes with old age.

Feeling the bitterness with sad smiles on our faces.