O parting breeze from my meadows,
Return my stolen rose to me;
The thorn which lived in its shadows —
That thorn was also close to me.
The honey-bee asked for nectar,
My eyes could give but only tears;
A hive which has no protector —
Who\'ll save it from the hornet\'s spear?
My soul is still in disbelief;
Was it truly her time to leave?
The only cure for those in grief —
Don\'t comfort them, let them grieve.
O parting one, a final glance,
From your eyes to my yearning eyes;
I would explain, given the chance,
The pain you gave with no goodbyes.
-Anas Merchant