I haven’t forgotten you, my dear
the golden shine of your hair.
To forget you — that was impossible,
not to be with you, not to be with you…
Nor have I forgotten our autumn,
the night, the leaves full of whispers.
Though the day had grown short,
the moon gazed long over the valley.
In my ear you would whisper:
Dreams and years slip by, never to return,
and you will leave with another,
leaving me alone to face my fate.
The lemon trees, there among the leaves,
today awakened a new longing.
How joyfully I gathered flower crowns,
just to give them to you.
This heart, drowning in sorrow,
for you, my old love —
will you remain only a memory,
and leave me free to find another?
