734
If He were living—dare I ask—
And how if He be dead—
And so around the Words I went—
Of meeting them—afraid—
I hinted Changes—Lapse of Time—
The Surfaces of Years—
I touched with Caution—lest they crack—
And show me to my fears—
Reverted to adjoining Lives—
Adroitly turning out
Wherever I suspected Graves—
'Twas prudenter—I thought—
And He—I pushed—with sudden force—
In face of the Suspense—
"Was buried"—"Buried"! "He!"
My Life just holds the Trench—
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
.........wonderful poem and excellent imagery ★