While Your Lips Are Still Red

…

First day of love never comes back
A passionate hour’s never a wasted one
The violin, the poet’s hand
Every thawing heart plays your theme with care

Kiss while your lips are still red
While he’s still silent
Rest while bosom is still untouched, unveiled

Hold another hand while the hand’s still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they’re still blind
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn

…