Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 7/11/2018
The spring outside the window smells of first rain,
And though autumn has colored hair with gray
- I love you still.
We won't leave by the same train,
Because it wasn't written in the Book of Fate,
- I still love you.
The words of hope which into the poem I compose,
Throw on my grave and remember, Dear,
- I love you as before.
Although into the Unknown carried by momentum's force
Maybe I will meet you in the endless blue one day
- And love I will.
Copyright © by Wieslaw Musialowski 08/2012