My friend, I do not know which way to look
For love, which seems to have faded away.
Imagine my life as a dusted shut book
That will not open; nor does it shine light
To travelled places where I have been blessed.
My friend, the distance from in my heart is
Equal in distance from where I rested.
In strange words I have spoken of lost love.
And yet there not found worthy substitute
For hearts opened by my smiles. Alas, I'm
Emptied of charms that blow as flute upon
Air which is green with envy for my look.

My friend, it is useless to fix the past
Which begins in error, and never lasts.