My chest grew helplessly cold,
But my feet were light and deft,
I pulled a glove on my right hand-
The one that was meant for my left.
It seemed the steps were many,
But I knew - there were only three!
Amid maples, autumn's whisper pled softly:
"Die with me!
My fate so fickle and evil-
Has coldly betrayed me anew.
I answered,"My dearest, my darling mine too.
I will die with you"
The song of the very last meeting.
I glanced at the darkened home.
In the bedroom the candles were burning
with an indifferent, yellowish glow.
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