He proclaimed his love, though unrequited
And bared his tender covert passion, though
In vain held the wick, unignited
And prayed to set the fine taper aglow.
Steadfast he held to his lovesick fancy
Chasing a dream through the cloudy unknown
Firmly grasping to what he knew could be:
Visions of a light that could not be blown.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem