I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion.
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara, in my fashion.
I understand that absinthe makes the tart grow fonder.
They are not long, the days of wine and roses Out of a misty dream Our path emerges for a while, then closes Within a dream.
I have forgot much, Cynara Gone with the wind.
They are not long, the days of wine and roses.
They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories