Solid strong and steadfast
But quiet and cold, I wait:
My flowered walls call out to you
To walk in through my gate.
Dress my naked floorboards
And paint these eyes of glass
That search in vain for masters new
Among those who care to pass.
My mistress left me empty
After three score years and ten
This heart of fire yearns to warm
These lonely rooms again.
Don't be harsh or hasty:
These walls and windows weeping
Will care for you when grief has gone
And guard your infants sleeping.
Adorn my walls with portraits
Of your youthful family:
Tokens of your promise made
To breathe their life in me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem