When they had known each other for eight years
(and one may say they knew each other very well),
their love suddenly went missing.
Like other people (lose) a stick or hat.
They were sad, pretending happily,
tried kissing, as nothing had happened,
and looked into each other’s face and didn’t know what’s next.
Eventually she cried. And he stood by.
From the window one could wave to ships.
He says, it’s already quarter past four
and time, to go somewhere for coffee.
Nearby a human practiced the piano.
They went to the smallest café on the spot
and stirred in their cups.
In the evening they were still sitting there.
They sat alone, and they spoke not a word
and simply could not believe it.
– Erich Kästner (1899-1974), Sachliche Romanze, 1928, my own translation.