One is a smiling silence from fairy land,
The other, a well-polished gold.
And were it not by fate,
Why should they meet after eighteen summers?
And if fated,
Why do their hands not clasp each other?
One sighs with deep longing,
The other tries in vain;
One is the moon reflected in the water,
The other, but a wreath of flowers in the mirror.
How many tears can flow from down her cheeks?
Can they flood her life all year round?
Dec 28, '07 6:04 AM
for Miracle's network
The other, a well-polished gold.
And were it not by fate,
Why should they meet after eighteen summers?
And if fated,
Why do their hands not clasp each other?
One sighs with deep longing,
The other tries in vain;
One is the moon reflected in the water,
The other, but a wreath of flowers in the mirror.
How many tears can flow from down her cheeks?
Can they flood her life all year round?
Dec 28, '07 6:04 AM
for Miracle's network
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