Don’t take this as a love poem.
I do not care to relive our moments.
Like when I saw you for the first time.
And the songs of angels rang in my heart.

I will never write a love poem for you again.
Like when we sheltered from the spring rain
Below a maple tree in olive greens
And the colour of its leaves
Were the exact colour of your eyes.

I am finished with silly love poems
And will never mention again
How I stop and my heart skips a beat
when I hear a laugh
exactly like yours.
Or see a woman from behind
and her hair is burnished gold
Just like I remember yours.

I am now quiet over you.
In fact I hardly ever think of you anymore.
Except perhaps in blossoming springtime.
But then I should never think of springtime.
For that would surely
break my heart in two