
Is it too foolish then, without hope?
Your soul was pure and true,
Your spirit was fire and dew,
The high stars shined in your horoscope.
And because I was very young, invisible,
And our fates were a great divide so wide,
Each was nothing to each, each to end; must it be told?
We were never to cross the paths – Impossible!
We were mortals strutting our hours; nothing beside?