There"s no colour on your lips,
No reproach in gentle eyes;
Like a flower in the mist,
You look proud and yet so shy.

If I speak, I"ll break this dusk
Into tiny shards of glass,
In the silence so mystique
I"m afraid to even breathe.

If I were to name my love,
Would it fade like frozen stars
Melt unnoticed at the dawn
In the rouge of winter sun?

If I were to hold your hand,
Would you turn away from me?
Would you tremble like the leaves
Touched by daring April wind?

There"s no darkness to conceal
Flaming fluster of your cheeks;
If illusions feel so real,
I won"t wake up from this dream.