IX
The beloved is restless
In bearing the pangs of separation.
Yea, innumerable pains and pleasures vex her,
The heart throbs fast
And aches deeply.
When wilt Thou meet me, O Lover?
I see the path silently and secretly
And dream of Thy loveful meeting.
(From The Ferryman)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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