Years ago,
Simply ages;
I don't know
How the deuce they go:
Like turning pages!

We're still friends at any rate;
Nothing can invalidate
The fun we had,
Good or bad,
Always together,
Not caring whether
Earthquake or thunder,
Over or under;
Joy in each heart;
Singing like thrushes
Young in bushes:
Now—we're apart.

I've never been so happy since then:
They talk of the love of women and men,
It's not half so true as that of friends;
Not passionate, not selfish,
Never ends ...
Not our fault to be forced away,
Destiny came:
A wedge:
We could not turn its edge;
And so it fell upon that bitter day.

We might have had such times!
But—No! No!
It wouldn't go;
And after that 'twas never the same;
I can't encompass it by rhymes,
Halting and tame;
There it lies—
Not to be altered by tears or sighs:
We meet, stealing;
Eyes on the door;
With banished feeling—
But—No more!