We call each other by names, In fact all just rolls on and on without aims--- Just the routine heat of our daily 'talk;' If it then be that we in harmony no more can 'walk,' Nor with joy together quietly rejoice, Then, though it troubles me inside, yet I've no choice But to leave you, dearest, unattended By the passion I've borne for you, alone uncontented: Let me to injustice be done, Than do it myself--from which in heart I shun. -by Hakim Kassim.