there’s crimson on my handkerchief
did you not see my tears
I burned up, I blazed, beloved
if you’d brought water, would I still be on fire?
oh, how numbered days fly by
this burden must be borne
written words remain, spoken words take wing
may my heart lament
give back, give back
my dreams
reality is agony
can my heart endure not seeing
its desire
let it see again and again
hyacinth petals in my handkerchief
my soul aches, the nightingale weeps
who can bear to be apart from their beloved
the nightingale’s solace is the rose
oh, how numbered days fly by
this burden must be borne
written words remain, spoken words take wing
may my heart lament
give back, give back
my dreams
reality is agony
can my heart endure not seeing
its desire
let it see again and again