Things never changed since the Time of the Gods:
The flowing of water, the Way of Love.

Thinking to-morrow remains, thou heart's frail flower-of-cherry,
How knowest whether this night the tempest will not come?

All things change, we are told, in this world of change and sorrow;
But love's way never changes of promising never to change.

If with my sleeve I hide the faint colour of the dawning sun —
Then, perhaps, in the morning my love will remain.