Oh, my dear, dear soul. Do not weep for that which is not. You exhaust yourself all the day long, yearning for a love that is gone.
Oh, my dear lost love. Do you recall when your eyes fluttered towards me? You too soon forget your own wishful stares and murmurings your heart whispered freely.
Oh, my dear old self. Do not remember your vacant replies. You cast off his pleas every time dreaming of a man more divine.
Oh, my dear poor heart. Do not break even as the stone ripples with blood. You indifferently watched him walk away, now witnessing the transformation of a snake to a dove.
Oh, my dear dim eyes. Do not glance, for the pain is too great. You mustn’t sway in word or deed only causing the spirit to ache.
Oh, my dear strong faith. Do not fade for lack of beauty or wit. You was not ready in times of childhood dreams with fleeting desires and ignorant innocence.
Oh, my dear new love. Do not I see your glancing bright eyes? You, too, were not ready, and we are still waiting for that perfect time.
Oh, my dear, dear soul. Do not lose hope for a love you think lost. You know already that his love never tired, and you can still see it yearning from within those hazel, brown-green eyes.