Love of my life, you Are lost and I am Young again. A few years pass. The air fills With girlish music; In the front yard The apple tree is Studded with blossoms. I try to win you back, That is the point Of the writing. But you are gone forever, As in Russian novels, saying A few words I don't remember- How lush the world is, How full of things that don't belong to me- I watch the blossoms shatter, No longer pink, But old, old, a yellowish white- The petals seem To float on the bright grass, Fluttering slightly. What a nothing you were, To be changed so quickly Into an image, an odor- You are everywhere, source Of wisdom and anguish. Louise Glück