Good bye then, I could not never pretend To need to depend on anyone... Goodbye, goodbye, Let me climb my own tree, I found it too And you did not lead me to it Nor can you climb it for me Or make its highest branches Any nearer... The leaves are falling again And I pick them up, Just the same as anyone Who can bend a little To look for them... I know- I save to much, Upfront in my memory, It is like an Attic-storing things I may never use again But cannot discard Always keeping the past alive... Being myself is something I must do, Everyday-not now and then, Or routinely five days a week... The persistent hope of discovery Sooner or later provides A man who will always abide By that which seems most perfect And the nature of increase Which is never satisfied... Romeo Della Valle