Some day we’ll meet on a street;
I’ll hardly recognize your face,
You’ll bow your head, I’ll follow suit
And lower my eyes just in case.
We’ll stop for a while to have a chat
And try to recall the last meeting.
You’ll ask, “What happened after that? ”
“Nothing special, I’ve been living…”
You will be very kind and nice,
I’ll touch nervously my glasses,
I’ll say goodbye, you’ll answer twice.
Again, my heart will fall to pieces…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.