Pappilion
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we
did not take
Towards the door we never opened
into the rose-garden.
My words echo
Thus, in your mind
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a blow
of roses-leaves
I do not know
Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we
did not take
Towards the door we never opened
into the rose-garden.
My words echo
Thus, in your mind
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a blow
of roses-leaves
I do not know