Seems to me that if I was to look in hope
Over my shoulders,
I should see something of you,
Even if darkly.
But years ago you set off from my life
You, of the fiery eyes and cropped hair
You of the slender fingers
And, if I must see you now
It is only with my eyes shut.
I have lost my hair, have buried grown sons.
You are alive-or dead, the years have rolled.
Did you give of yourself to many-as I did?
Did any remind you of me?
Did any surrender their reason to your fancies as totally as i?
I can no longer tremble before beauty,
My passions have cooled.
My heart too, now slow moving
Can no longer race at the whiff of a woman’s perfume.
Do I regret that I fell under the spell of your beauty?
Or grieve that your eyes had the power to transfix me?
Do I wish to reverse the motor of time?
Now, in the evening of my life- already dark and lonely
I wish not to reverse time- if I could
But merely that I may be allowed to take with me
To the other side
Along with my anxiety of what lies across,
My painful and intense memories of you.