A silent wind blows through your hair.
The moon flits behind the fireflies.
I sit upon this earth and stare,
Into the sky, into your eyes.
You speak in wild and beautiful shades;
Reflections in the light of that hidden moon,
And the clouds themselves, as summer fades,
Shall break their own sweet colors soon.
As this all things are intertwined.
No reason save but reasons past.
No rhyme save but rhyme's versed breath.
The bittered waters of the river Lethe
Will wind themselves back home at last.
My love for you was love itself.
And love itself, it shall remain.
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