Write, for example, The night is starry

and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.

I no longer love her, thats certain, but how I loved her.

To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

The night is starry and she is not with me.

How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

I no longer love her, thats certain, but maybe I love her.

My vo九*九*藏*书*网ice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer

Anothers. She will be anothers. As she was before my kisses.

my soul is 藏书网not satisfied that it has lost her.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

and these the last verses that I write for her.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I kissed her again and again under the九九藏书 endless sky.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.

The same night whitening the same trees.

My sight tries to find her as9９ｌib•nｅｔ though to bring her closer.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms

We, of that time, are no longer the same.

Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.