While I was sitting alone one night,
I heard a nightingale sing,
It professed its love in strains so light,
I listened well, wondering.
'Come closer to me, ' it seemed to say,
'I am but one of many,
Not different from then and today
Telling the same old story.'
Eternity was just around the
Corner when I was with you,
But friendship wanes and all its gala
After which love gets lost, too.
I then saw my place under the sun
Is really nothing special;
For you, our past, or for anyone's
Is smaller than a ripple.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem