Passing

Across the eyelids of my window a shadow passed: perhaps it was you, perhaps the gaze of the moon has rekindled the cold lantern of my memory in the distant, misty thicket of your mind perhaps my image tonight has passed from the dark valleys of oblivion to the bright nest of your thoughts. Across the eyelids of my window a shadow passed: I run to the alley, dead ends stand before my eyes, an old sleepwalker passes by them slow and calm; the coquettish moonlight smiles upon my tears. Without you how shall I get through the night without you, how shall I?...