• rudra_v 5w

    Who knows when meeting shall ever be.
    It might be for years or
    It might be forever.
    Let us then take a lump of clay,
    Wet it, pat it,
    And make an image of you
    And an image of me.
    Then smash them, crash them,
    And, with a little water,
    Knead them together.
    And out of the clay we'll remake
    An image of you, and an image of me.
    Thus in my clay, there's a little of you,
    And in your clay, there's a little of me.
    And nothing will ever set us apart.
    Living, we'll be forever in each other's heart,
    And dead, we'll be buried together.