I'll speak to the night
shut away the voice of day

it doesn't reply
but it reads my heart

not in nonchalance
but as an consoling friend

time falls apart
as the hours dissipate

the moon recedes
the stars they weep

the winds they sigh
the trees are silent in sleep

the stream is still
solemn is the nearby hill

shadows and silhouettes
are they real or imaginary?

does her voice descend
from the river's end

reminding me
of our love that couldn't be?

I wonder and still search-
where's she? is she happy?

what futility!
the past is but a bad memory

Chopin's Nocturnes--piano refrains
drift in the chilly air singing of pains

reverie-ridden, I'm lost in a half dream
as the last star gives up its farewell beam.