Whose fault was it?
I asked to the setting sun.
Was it spring that blossomed from your long, flowing hair?
Or was it the soft kisses you laid on my heart with a mother’s care?

Whose fault was it?
I asked the lonely, blue bird.
Was it your eyes that promised me a future full of light?
Or was it the words you whispered on my ears on a moonless night?

Whose fault was it?
I asked the falling leaves of autumn.
Was it the sound of your bangles breaking the monotony of day?
Or was it the poems you wrote about what lovers think but never say?

Whose fault was it?
I asked myself staring at a broken mirror.
My heart responded with the excitement of a little boy.
Does it matter, when she brings you everyday a bouquet full of joy?