And Then...

The platform of this small station..
looks nearly deserted...
trains halt here briefly.
You've come all the way,
to see him off,
eager to see him as long as possible,
before distance takes him out of your sight.
you look upon the train, as a cruel carrier-away,
of the one you love.
Why blame the train,dear friend?

The bellman rings the bell,
the guard blows his whistle,
and waves his green flag.
not so close, the wheels move.
Wipe your tears, for they break his heart,
this parting is sad... sadder are your tears.
bid him farewell with a smile,
thinking of the day,
when you'll meet him again...

Epilogue:

The path and the almond tree...
where he came to you, that day, with two roses,
one in hand..one in heart.
he offered the one in his hand..
and you...lacked the art...
to ask -- "is the other one too , for me?"
yellow leaves fell from the bough of almond tree..
and he went away, only to come back..
to offer the other one too..

At the same path, under the same almond tree..
he touched you...
the same palm..
with which he used to caress your cheeks,
and often held your hand...
the same palm which he stretched out of the train..
"is it a good-bye? or a call?" , you thought that day,
for your tears blurred your sight.
with the same palm, he held the rifle,
and fought the enemies in war..
played the game of blood in raining bullets..
Wont you go to that path my friend..that almond tree...
he has now come back, for you...
with a bunch of flowers,
in the same palm.
Will you discern sparks of fire there?