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“I write our names on the page. What of it, if the paper will be burned? I write our names in the sand. What of it, if the shore will be washed by waves? I write our names on trees that will be cut and benches that will be painted, but what of it? I will keep on writing our names because in this world of ephemera, You and I are the only constant.” — Kamand Kojouri
I write our names on the page.
What of it, if the paper will be burned?
I write our names in the sand.
What of it, if the shore will be washed by waves?
I write our names on trees that will be cut
and benches that will be painted,
but what of it?
I will keep on writing our names
because in this world of ephemera,
You and I are the only constant.