I never found them again -- the things so quickly lost....
the poetic eyes, the pale
face.... in the dusk of the street....
I never found them again -- the things acquired quite by chance,
that I gave up so lightly;
and that later in agony I wanted.
The poetic eyes, the pale face,
those lips, I never found again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oooh, I like this poem. It reminds me of Rilke. But the nostalgia of the poem is heart-rendering.