And I began to miss you,
more than last year,
when the days turn slowly
and time feels bitter.
Today the calendar embraces me
with its cruel reminder:
three hundred and sixty-five days
of silence that is my story.
It was 14th February,
flowers and promises, laughter;
but now at my window
I find only sad shadows.
Memories of your smile
intertwine with the wind,
while the echo of your footsteps
has been lost in time.