The Cold floor from Yesteryears

The river of sadness overflows,
Plains, fields and trees submerged,
In float the dry reed, the carcass,
The straw hut,
Days and months we built then rested,
Laughed and cried some,
The light from the lamp lit your face so often,
Joy then had another name,
We flirted with the notion of love,
Bitter-sweet, the fruit we found,
All of this gushes from the river,
Eyes stare, stoned,
We could swim across together,
But I don’t know how to swim,
Dry in that little space,
Even my words abandon me,
At last the celebration,
The price has been paid in tears of blood,
The cold floor from yesteryears,
A feeble joke,
Once again the river of sadness overflows,
I remain untouched,
The river now dwells in me...