Sadness is a hand you believed in, and she, like the dew, disappeared with the first rays. Dew is sorrow, sorrow is a tear, with which every flower cries in the morning. The sadness has calmed the wind, hugged in your hair. Sadness is a trace left by you on the sand. Sadness is in the cold, in the wind and in the darkness, sadness is in your waiting eyes. Sadness is a farewell cry, a torn calendar sheet, and in the eyes of those who have felt sorrow. Even for a brief moment, in the wind and the darkness, sadness is in your waiting eyes. Sadness is a helpless child in my arms. I will look for a part of you now and your face, and in the cold, and in the darkness, and in the dew, I will seek a part of you. Is there sadness in me?
