The Flower is Torn at the Heart

The flower is torn at the heart
Its fragrance befriends the breeze

Who can tell who destroyed it?
We have spent this evening under sentence

No one has to go on this journey
I can still turn round, if you want

Every street in this city is asleep
It's my turn to stay awake

In the uncertain view of this evening
The whole thing wavers

How can we honour our union
When my heart is gripped by fear of separation

My heart desires above all
That we make this evening ours

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