We learned not to meet anymore, We don't raise our eyes to one another, But we ourselves won't guarantee What could happen to us in an hour.
All that I am hangs by a thread tonight
There is a sacred, secret line in loving which attraction and even passion cannot cross.
My shadow serves as the friend I crave
That was when the ones who smiled Were the dead, glad to be at rest.
A loss, but who still mourns the breath of one woman, or laments one wife? Though my heart never can forget, how, for one look, she gave up her life.