The weather beaten garden clock betrays some laziness

The once precise hands have now grown rhythm-less

The laced hammock sways beneath the winking stars

And the silver moonlight floods the dale of flowers

But something strikes my heart as I lie in that light

Enveloped in the velvet silence of this queer night

The dancing flame of fire still burns the candle wick

The bottle of cherry wine lies smashed by my drunken kick

The wind is steady; blows strong without a change

But somehow this heart of mine has never felt as strange

But now my thoughts chase each other to victory

And I finally understand the cause of my misery

On this very hammock she used to be in my embrace

I used to kiss her till she fell asleep, exhaling on my face

On this quiescent trail we had patted smiling flowers

Formed imaginary hearts by joining the radiant stars

Between these very hills our winter moons had sunk

We`d break the wine bottles each time we got drunk

The butterflies had blushed upon seeing our first kiss

Laying on the fresh-cut grass, enclosed in a smitten mist

And now I lie, drunk, with wine and memories of two

I hope missing her is not something I must get used to

The air of strangeness transforms to a glacial breath

This new life of loneliness is in fact a living death

The wind puts out the candle, darkness adds to gloom

Even the gusts now bring the rosy scent of her perfume

And as it intoxicates me, my eyes turn to scour

I look around for her, until I realize she is afar

But every time a star falls, this heart of mine believes

And searches for her, once again, amidst the mocking breeze.