Что бы́ло, то прошло́ (и быльём поросло́).

In my pocket, in my wallet, is a dried and faded flower,

I still keep it, for I need it, remembering that golden hour.

You who gave it, do not want it, I wonder how I will survive.

In the meadow, with the flowers, is the place where we lay down,

I held your hand, you held your breath, I made you wear a daisy crown,

You once wore it, did not keep it, I wonder who you lie with now?

I left treasure, in the meadow, left the pearls so dearly sown,

I loved you only, you loved just once, staying free as one un-owned.

Did you cry out? No, you whimpered. I wonder where my love has gone?

The past is over, what used to be here, is now gone and overgrown,

I hear your heartbeat, you laugh for ever, now I am quite lost, alone.

You who were mine, did not love me, I wonder where your soul resides?

* What used to be, has gone (and is overgrown by grass).