Jan 2012
When all we count as friends have passed,
and we alone remain- Will this grey world
seem beautiful? Or will it just seem strange?
Like the last rose of summertime,
encountering the frost-
Will our beauty be remembered
or will it be simply lost?
and we alone remain- Will this grey world
seem beautiful? Or will it just seem strange?
Like the last rose of summertime,
encountering the frost-
Will our beauty be remembered
or will it be simply lost?
A homage to the Irish folk song "The Last Rose of Summer"
