From childhood's hour, I have not been as other's were;
I have not seen as others saw
I could not bring my passions from a common spring
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow I could not aweken
My heart to joy at the same tone
And all I loved, I loved alone
Then in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life was drawn
From every depth of good and Ill
the mystery which binds me still
From the torrent and the fountain
From the cliff of the mountain
From the sun that round me rolled
In its wet tint of gold
From the lightning sky
I lay my sorrow, and there we lay alone
And both I grew with through the nothingness of life
And the fortitude of being a callow
As it passed me flying by
From the thunder and the storm
And the cloud that took the form
When the rest of heaven was blue of a demoon,
In my view
For there I pray, but I was left alone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem