I am shut out of mine own heart
because my love is far from me,
nor in the wonders have I part
that fill its hidden empery:
the wildwood of adventurous thought
and lands of dawn my dream had won,
the riches out of Faery brought
are buried with our bridal sun.
And I am in a narrow place,
and all its little streets are cold,
because the absence of her face
has robb'd the sullen air of gold.
My home is in a broader day:
at times I catch it glistening
thro' the dull gate, a flower'd play
and odour of undying spring:
the long days that I lived alone,
sweet madness of the springs I miss'd,
are shed beyond, and thro' them blown
clear laughter, and my lips are kiss'd:
- and here, from mine own joy apart,
I wait the turning of the key: -
I am shut out of mine own heart
because my love is far from me
It is a frustrating experience to be shut out of ones own car, ones own house, ones own room, to be shut out of ones own heart, life, experience, is a momentous event. Few get this opportunity, and very few make something of it, those who do, write brilliant poetry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love it. It is well written and the rhythm was very well done