On this lonely path
The wind, my sole companion--
My refuge, the sea.

It stirs me daily--
This loneliness that I feel--
To write you this verse.

Look!  The sun is bright
In your hair, stirred by the wind--
I'm a fool in love.

Tell me, professor,
What have we learned this morning?--
Nothing of the heart.

                         October 7, 1999
                      --Alexander Shaumyan