How long will your love hold for me?
How long?
As long as my womb sheds
Its child-bearing blood?
As long as my colour blooms,
My flesh is firm?
Is that how long?
Surely there's something beyond all that,
A place out there, somewhere.
But what it might be
None of us knows.
I journey towards that very place,
Craving the unknown
That far, that long
You will not be with me.
Translated by Patricia L. Sharpe
A man's love is seasonal and superficial. It cannot see beyond skin. A thoughtful write that speaks for every woman. A10.
How many loved your moments of glad grace And loved your beauty with love false or true But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you And loved the sorrows of your changing face - W. B. Yeats
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you so much, Patricia Sharpe, for this excellent translation. A haunting reflection: can there be an enduring love that may last (perhaps grow stronger) through the journey of life, craving the unknown?