You don't remind me of the iris in spring 
Or of dawn on the mountain when the bluebirds starts to 
sing 
You don't remind me of the breeze on the bay 
Or of stars in the fountain where the silver fishes play 

resemblance 
Of the first snow in November, you're not even a 
semblance 

No, you don't remind me of the world around me 
Or behind me for so much thus my love for you blinds me 
That, my darling, you only remind me of you, of you, of 
you