Have you heard,
How I fell in love once,With a girl in my ancient youth?
But is she true to our memory,In heaven's embrace?
Does she speak fondly of us,Now in angelic repose,While I roam in our lodging place,Where she never goes?
I will write a hundred versesTo remember you,In dust upon this wooden floor,In grain and paint that peels around me.
I will scratch a thousand sonnetsTo honor love,And wait behind this broken door,And wait for you,Where you burned your life away,Five hundred years before....