To me only
You must return
From all world's enmity
Come, and you'll find
A friend, unlike all, honest
But mad indeed!
To have lived in only hope
That his tender love might touch your heart
Ever!
Spent nights rehearsing
Words poured forth from heart
Of utter aliveness and soft love
And of prolonged upbringing;
Longing for an honour
Unworthy of, maybe
That they might rise someday
With soft caresses upon your earings
Glittering!
And along their glitter exchange
A melody so strange
Yielding rarest of the passions
To play upon your heartstrings
A music one of a kind;
But then, if need be
I would not dare to move my lips
In repetition as you speak
Of life's grave vicissitude;
Rather, watch you reverently,
From a distance only;
And even at your feet beg,
That I fear to listen to you
Every time you talk of parting;
I ask for nothing
Only, if life be,
I must continue to behold you
‘cause there's no other joy in life,
But to see you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem