Old Photoograh, An

It is not you I kiss — not you! —
Coming upon you suddenly,
Faded as those swift hours we knew,
The dawns and dusk, we two!

I kiss another face I see —
O little face, so young, so true,
Shining through that pale effigy! —
The face mine used to be.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.