even should I look at the same stars as you
and even the heavens, though the same shade of blue
shine onto those paths that ourselves so well knew
we'd not have a hope to find something as true
at the altar where once worshiped love; all was new
even should time stop or stand still at our whim
however we viewed him, as captor or friend
no matter the hours in-between there'd been
and the world view as virtue or condemn as a sin-
there's too many stitches now, ever to mend
even should I hand you my heart, again now
and even if you treat it, as you never knew how
and had time not marked pain in the folds of our brow
and supposing, we never had taken that vow-
we have used up the reasons that love would allow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem