In my dreams I am always saying goodbye and riding away,
Whither and why I know not nor do I care.
And the parting is sweet and the parting over is sweeter,
And sweetest of all is the night and the rushing air.
In my dreams they are always waving their hands and saying goodbye,
And they give me the stirrup cup and I smile as I drink,
I am glad the journey is set, I am glad I am going,
I am glad, I am glad, that my friends don't know what I think.
Find this poem interesting. Why is she always saying goodbye? Why always leaving? An inner wish for a different life. A secret kept from friends of her unhappiness? Hmmm......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Life is a journey, goodbye here, hello at next stop.