Years of love have been forgot, In the hatred of a minute.
Lovers, forget your love And list to the love of these She a window flower And he a winter breeze.
You never put her in your heart.
I remember awakening one morning and finding everything smeared with the color of forgotten love.
I could have loved you once And said it But then you went away And when you came back Love was a forgotten word, Remember?
Does he write to you? Never a line. Does he send you a message? Never a word. It is because he loves you, poor fool, and is trying to forget you, since you are not free to listen to him or to belong to him.
And the best and the worst of this is That neither is most to blame, If you have forgotten my kisses And I have forgotten your name.
Your love to me was like an unread book.
I heed not that my earthly lot Hath - little of Earth in it - That years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute: - I mourn not that the desolate Are happier, sweet, than I, But that you sorrow for my fate Who am a passer by.
How easily this unthinking family love was forgotten.
I saw that it was all over, put away in a box like a doll no longer cared for, the magical intimacy of our childhood together
The night comes on that knows not morn, When I shall cease to be all alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn.
Can anyone remember love? It's like trying to summon up the smell of roses in a cellar. You might see a rose, but never the perfume.
