If you stop loving me In one day of our upcoming days, Oh, never be like the wind in each day Climbs up shadows to reach my lips If your feelings withered Like a slow autumn through my windows Be sure I'll plant another rose in my heart, So go from me silently toward those isles Where everything extinguished or forgotten! For me I shall lift my arms And pray. It may the wind passes Through me and take your roots, I may not care at all. Written by © Fatima Nusairat