Oh, the poets may sing of their Lady Loves,
And may rave in their rhymes about wonderful women,
But I throw my poetical wings to the breeze,
And soar in a song to my own lady friend.
The years are slowly creeping on
Beneath the summer sun
Yet, still in silent love and peace
Your life serenely run.
How still it is here in this colored mountains.
The trees stand motionless, as if they did not dare
To stir, lest it should break the spell.
The air hangs quiet as spaces in a marble freeze.
Shall our memories live, when the rain drops above us
And marks our last home with the rushing of mud water?
Shall the voices of those who profess that they love us
Ever mention our names, as we dreamlessly sleep?
In my whole life, pain and misery dwelt in my heart
But the pain in my heart was gone when I met you
Hope and happiness came to me at a glance
Its not that we are together or feel each other
She is like a book that I read
Turning the pages carefully caressing
Its essence the words, letters, appreciating
Never wanting to dropp it until the end.
When presses hard my load of care,
And other friends from me depart,
I want a friend my grief to share,
With faithful speech and loving heart.
Comes a time in your life, as you are drifting
Someone enters in your life,
Just walks in and stole your heart
Before your very eyes.
How dear to me the hour when daylight dies,
And sunbeams melt along the silent sea,
For then sweet dreams of other days arise,
And memory breathes her vesper sigh to you.