One night of a nearly forgotten life,
we sat together in the moonlit garden
near a vase of irises and crocuses,
wove anemones into each other's hair
and took turns playing upon a lyre,
while the moon outshone lamplight
and cast everything lucid pale blue,
the marble bench, the irises and you.
I had to leave. There were things,
far away thing I had to do. I didn't,
no, I didn't want to to leave you ever.
I said to you, I will love you forever.
You, my hyacinth, my heart's content,
whispered to me then that somehow,
someday, we'd find each other again.
And you told me to wear saffron.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem