‘Am I to lose you now?’ The words were light;
You spoke them, hardly seeking a reply,
That day I bid you quietly ‘Good-bye,’
And sought to hide my soul away from sight.
The question echoes, dear, through many a night, --
My question, not your own – most wistfully;
‘Am I to lose him?’ – asked my heart of me;
‘ Am I to lose him now, and lose him quite?’
And only you can tell me. Do you care
That sometimes we in quietness should stand
As fellow-solitudes, hand firm in hand,
And thought with thought and hope with hope compare?
What is your answer? Mine must ever be,
‘I greatly need your friendship: leave it me.’
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem