Dorothy Parker - Temps Perdu lyrics

I never may turn the loop of a road Where sudden, ahead, the sea is Iying But my heart drags down with an ancient load My heart, that a second before was flying I never behold the quivering rain And sweeter the rain than a lover to me But my heart is wild in my breast with pain My heart, that was tapping contentedly There's never a rose spreads new at my door Nor a strange bird crosses the moon at night But I know I have known its beauty before And a terrible sorrow along with the sight The look of a laurel tree birthed for May Or a sycamore bared for a new November Is as old and as sad as my furtherest day What is it, what is it, I almost remember?