Darling, because I'm given to extremes
Of exaltation and the ultimate despair--
A madman torn by outlandish dreams,
Obsessed by metaphysics of your hair--
Because I'm an idiot, I think,
To sing these ardent love songs in this town,
Because I think too much, because I drink,
Because I'm just another drunken clown,
Because I've really nothing else to do
In this sad place so desperately boring,
Because I love your charm and your tattoo,
But that is not the reason I adore you,
Because you are just what you are--no more, no less,
And that is why, my darling, that I miss you--
Because I can recall with tenderness
The times I touched your freckled skin and kissed you.

                                                    --Alexander Shaumyan
                                                        October 19, 1998