I still waste my tears in your memory,
I still miss the romance in my poetry...

In your company I was carefree,
And you bit your fingers naughtily.
You used to meet me often secretly,
A lot of time is gone but I still miss it.

I used to pull the corner of the curtains suddenly,
And I remember how you veiled your face behind the scarf.
Those sunlit hot afternoons when I used to call you,
And I still miss how you used to run barefoot onto the terrace to romance with me.