The restless shadows on the other side of morning gather swift
about the landscape of my dreaming; stealthily, they seek to lift
me from the borders of my slumber, where, with you, I shared this night;
a fleeting memory, half-forgotten now, in early, cold daylight.

And, why then, must we meet this way? Why then, this nebulous rendezvous?
This meeting, in the mists of dreams, with naught to gain... and naught to lose.
A soft reflection of what might have been, if fate had been, but kind;
so long ago... so far away; but still, you wander in my mind.

Perhaps, there was a certain something there; a spark that could not flame;
I wonder... would it burn anew, if, by some chance, we met again?
But, that... I think, is just a foolish notion; it could never be;
too many drifting years have passed us by; we are... just memories.

Yet, you still return to me... a misty echo of the past;
to wander with me in the meadows of my slumbering,
at last, together...
as we should have been, those years ago; in time, now lost;
so many times... so many dreams in which it seems, our paths have crossed.

I wonder, do I ever come into your perfumed dreams, somewhere
on the edge of consciousness? do we meet... far, far out there?
To touch each others hearts again, as we once did, so long ago?
A foolish thought, indeed... but then... Yes,
I would like to think it so.

The restless shadows on the other side of morning wait for me,
and I must say farewell again, to you;
for what will be... will be.
And it will not be us;
for that is gone... slipped from our hands, it seems;
yet, held close by my memories...
these shadows cannot blight my dreams.