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It was high time for a celebration
He was there, shining, afflicted with fun
All were invited, all came with impatience...
All, but the Unremembered One.

Keeping his scornful sight in her bosom,
She stood outside, unseen and unheard
A silent sceptor of rapture's blossom,
The ground under whom was soaked with dirt...

It was high time for the guests' departure
He was all drained, and the joy had gone...
Oh, with what pleasure he now would touch her,
Labeled the Unremembered One!

Long since her breath has evaporated,
Footprints are overgrown with weeds...
Sad that until souls are torn and tainted
One never knows what he truly needs.