I can not, I suppose, lose you completely.
No, not someone like you who once loved me so sweetly.
I need not utter prayers to keep you in mind.
Yours is a face I can not leave behind.
There’s so little to doubt, so little to be told,
of my fate that somehow makes me young and so old.
For people like you and people like I,
and no one else but the sea and the sky,
there are only rituals, kind words to be said,
masks for these faces, and bitter tears to be shed.
There is nothing else. There is nothing more.
But time keeps on ticking, who knows what for.