There was a rainstorm, oh Mabel
(My heart has lifted you
To the upper echelons of my soul
My spirit lets you roam free
In the flowing beat of my love)
Oh Mabel
Have a heart
I eat grass and drink mud
To wrench the pity out
Of your bosom
Feel the agony I am in
Time...
The old clock has the tendency
To feed me the wrong hours
Of your difficult tenderness
Soon I'll smash the old
Toy to smithereens if it continues
To tell me the old lies
Wind the clock anyway myselfward
Time is not on the side of our slow love
I must hurry and tell you that
Your entire self is the personification
Of the tenderness I miss in my life
Talk to me as a friend
And I'll accept the meaning of
Your well intentioned sympathy
Talk to me in the ecstasy of your love
And you will rule the softness of my love
l
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem