“Memories of love

She is the flower that blooms in every season,
For me she is the logic and my life’s every reason,
To serenade her for her beautiful ways,
During the cold Winter nights and during the warm Summer days,

When I lie vacant in my mind,
There is nothing to ponder on and nothing new to find,
And no thoughts pass by and everything seems unopposable,
I think of you, your beautiful face and your ways loveable,

Then something within me dies, something deep inside,
Maybe it is the sense of time, sense of existence that no more is willing to reside,
In this trepidation which brings grief,
To be a languid moment on the fringes of life with no relief,

And as this dead part of me buries itself within me,
Under the aegis of your sweet memories I now live and see,
Whatever life has to offer in its cyclic inventions of fate,
While I live, moving like the needles of the clock, and ah the endless wait,

So I reside in the hegemony of chance,
And in my memories we forever romance,
Which rise from the my half that is still alive,
Still hopeful, still in love, still romantic, and that is where you and your memories thrive,

They are the reason and that subtle force that makes my heart beat,
That alive part of my heart where every heart throb only your name does repeat,
And as I slide into the corner of my room,
I let your memories and smiles on the walls, on the floor, over the windows to bloom,

And I stare at this permanent Summer bliss,
And these beautiful sights grow over me like a permanent kiss,
Where I breathe you and you breathe me,
And in the flowers hanging on the walls, sprouting from the floor, growing on the windows, your wonder I see,

Then I spread the blanket of your memories,
And I sleep with your smiles, with your kisses, and my silent mind unto the land of love ferries,
Time may have neutralised my mind,
But it has failed to prevent me from my heart’s desire to find,

You in everything, in the skies, in the stars in the light and in the dark,
And ah its pain, for from memories it has failed to remove any mark,
For time that is the unruly mercenary of fate,
Killed a part of me and thought now it is my final and insensate state,

And as it galloped to erase my memories too,
My dying heart beat said, “Irma I love you!”
And the horse of time stumbled and fell,
How, why maybe nobody can tell,

And thus I ceased my moment and ran away with your memories,
And now the chariot of time me and you together carries,
Ahead of the time that chases me still and maybe forever,
But it's fall granted me a lead of few moments newer,

And when I tread on the highway of time,
You and I my love, are always ahead of the weary horse of Worldly time,
So let me spread the blanket of memories and let me sleep now,
For I have to be with you, in the land where it is always now,

And for the weary moments of worldly time let the circle around the walls of my room,
Never to know that lovers live in a zone where it is a permanent summer, in its everlasting beauty’s bloom!
The horse of time is worn out but my memories are as fresh as today,
And my love Irma, it shall be so everyday!”