I loved you, and I probably still do,
And for a while the feeling may remain...
But let my love no longer trouble you,
I do not wish to cause you any pain.
What's friendship? The hangover's faction,
The gratis talk of outrage,
Exchange by vanity, inaction,
I saw the Death, and she was seating
By quiet entrance at my own home,
I saw the doors were opened in my tomb,
And there, and there my hope was a-flitting
In alien lands I keep the body
Of ancient native rites and things:
I gladly free a little birdie
At celebration of the spring.
A magic moment I remember:
I raised my eyes and you were there,
A fleeting vision, the quintessence
Longing for spiritual springs,
I dragged myself through desert sands ...
An angel with three pairs of wings
Arrived to me at cross of lands;
I remember the marvellous moment
you appeared before me,
like a transient vision,
like pure beauty’s spirit.
In my youth's years, she loved me, I am sure.
The flute of seven pipes she gave in my tenure
And harked to me with smile -- without speed,
Along the ringing holes of the reed,
Bound for your distant home
you were leaving alien lands.
In an hour as sad as I’ve known
I wept over your hands.
The days drag on, each moment multiplies
Within my wounded heart the pain and sadness
Of an unhappy love and, dark, gives rise.