I hear the wind—how sweet! —yet howling near;
Music, its sound conjures a state of trance:
Which serenades and lulls our lost romance,
And makes our memories just disappear;
Come forth and blow away what lingers here,
Yet ere you leave I'll have but one last glance:
Let me lament how I shipwrecked my chance,
Perchance anon one soul to safety'll steer!
The howling echoes well within my all;
I think I miss the voices in my head,
Who said that feelings only'd make me fall;
At least back then I had something to feel!
In peace I lie in my dear lonesome bed:
Not knowing if at last I'll hurt or heal!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem