We may write our names on window panes,
Or trace them in the sand.
We may engrave them on a nearby tree,
With a firm and skillfull hand.
But in time these images will wither,
Soon each trace will fade away.
Every moment will crumble,
Like all earthly hopes . . . decay.

For decay will surely sweep our lives away,
Leaving only the wind to blow.
And though we may leave all this behind,
Still, tomorrow the ocean waves will roll.
So then, like the ocean waves,
Or the stars that glimmer above,
Let our feelings never change,
And forever between us . . .
Let there be Love!