In this world, I am only a passerby

You’d wave, tempting, with gracious hand

And Selene’s autumn light this Saturday

Was likewise, lovingly grand.

For the first time, by crescent I’m warmed.

For the first time, from night’s cold I’m saved.

Once again, dreaming about love …

The one that was foolishly scared.

For the one,

The one you…you no longer share.

With no intention in a heart for a lie,  

This love was devised by situation, by chance.

And with the thundering burst of a battle cry…

With avant-garde’s rapid advance,

This was no longer a duo, nor a romance.