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You may forget but let me tell you
this: someone in some future time,
will think of us.
You came and I was longing for you.
You cooled a heart that burned with desire.
Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.
Love shook my heart, like the wind on the mountain
rushing over the oak trees.
There is no place for grief in a house which serves the Muse.
Their heart grew cold / they let their wings down
Eros, again now, the loosen of limbs troubles me, /
Bittersweet, sly, uncontrollable creature….
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