I am in this her house where we live,
being not mine, must I leave, being in love
I've given to you, love that to you I gave all.
Being naive I soon realized how silly to most that I was
and hiding where none could see I would cry
a cynical world half empty to most
this cold cruel world is not now for me, I now see,
I was meant to leave a world not for me at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem