Forgive me Love, for my affliction,
When I confused you with my grief,
When I defended my conviction
When I stood by my dull belief
That Love must blossom first in woe,
Then slowly grow into its skin.
How much of love I didnít know!
How much of grief I havenít seen!
And now I recollect those days,
When she was there to sympathize.
The hope was shinning in her gaze,
I loved to watch her with my eyes,
Especially when filled with sadness.
She watched me suffer with affection
And pitied me, then I with gladness,
Enjoyed to be in my dejection.