Đoạn cuối cuộc tình Afterwards

Afterwards

I do not love you now,
Nor do you love me,
Love like a splendid storm
Swept us and passed.

Yet while the distance
And days drift between us,
Little things linger
To make me remember,

As the rain’s fragrance
Clings when the rain goes
To the wet under leaves
Of the verbena,

As the clear rain-drops
Cling to the cobwebs,
Leaving them lightly
Threaded with stars.