It makes me sad that love has passed,
You’re off, I’m gripped with melancholic vice.
One can’t cross out or delete the past:
It is the hell what was my paradise.
It makes me sad when I, by something driven,
Must every day in recollections start.
I’d like them once to bury in oblivion –
Those minutes when we had to part.
It makes me sad to think, to see, and bear
Deep loneliness, and no other choice.
It makes me sad to wait for love to hear
My and your own inner voice.
It Makes me Sad
© Copyright: Ник Ван Лубен, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103112700544
Свидетельство о публикации №103112700544
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