Will You Look Into My Eyes And

Life Was A Series Of Greetings And Farewells, One Was Always Saying Good-bye To Something, To Someone.

Why, He Wondered, Should He Remember Her Suddenly, On Such A Day, Watching The Rain Falling On The Apple Trees?

I Could Not Ask Forgiveness For Something I Had Not Done. As Scapegoat, I Could Only Bear The Fault.

I Am Glad It Cannot Happen Twice, The Fever Of First Love. For It Is A Fever, And A Burden, Too, Whatever The Poets May Say.

I Have No Talent For Making New Friends, But Oh Such Genius For Fidelity To Old Ones.