With heavy eyelids in full dawn,
We trod paths together,
Like a mother hen
With its only surviving chick.
Through anguish and dismay,
Thorns and thistles,
Together we journeyed,
Like a man with his shadow.
Now, if you go across
This plodder wall ahead,
Where light lies ephemeral,
Keep me not in your empty memories,
for we will certainly take our separate paths.