Loading...


The radiance from that new-born star
Will take many thousands of years
To travel a path that comes so far
To finally reach our eyes.

Perhaps it died while on its way
Through infinite blue space,
Yet only now does its light stray
To shine upon your face.

Slowly climbing the dark skies
Is the dead star's icon:
Invisible when it did exist,
Today, we see an illusion.

And so it is when passion's fled
Lost in the depths of night,
The light of our love, now dead,
Still haunts us in its flight.




Eminescu