2022-04-24 14:49:08 +05:30

12 lines
507 B
Plaintext

Even when surrounded by flowers from her courters,
The maiden never removed her hat to get a better look at them.
Their names and faces were not worth remembering.
For years, at the end of every day,
the maiden would brush off the dust on her hat.
But the passage of time showed in her face, too — and unlike the dust, it could never be brushed off.
As time passed, fewer and fewer courters visited her with flowers.
What did it matter? For her, time had already stopped long ago on that fateful day.