There is no "next" after you are dead and gone from your own world.
Perhaps the crescent moon smiles in doubt at being told that it is a fragment awaiting perfection.
The past is always with us, for nothing that once was time can ever depart.
If it is necessary to die in order to live like men, what harm in dying?
Love remains a secret even when spoken, for only a true lover truly knows that he is loved.
If I call not thee in my prayers, if I keep not thee in my heart, thy love for me still waits for my love.