Till the end of my life
I'll remember her eyes,
Full of mystical light,
Green as jade, cold as ice.
She is reading my rhymes,
But her english is bad,
And she liked them, still likes,
Though will not understand.
I remember that day
On the hill of the fox.
I was happy with her.
Was she too–there are doubts.
And I knew her too few,
But somewhy, somehow loved.
I was waking up for
Seeing her safe, alive.
Thousand miles between us,
And my heart now is ice.
I still see through the dust
Of the dreams these green eyes.