If I could choose which memory to keep
If a senility should rob me of
All thoughts save one before my final sleep,
I'd choose the memory of you, my love.
All other images I'd gladly loose
If only thoughts of you and love remained.
Such memories as fame I would not choose
If memories of you could be retained;
So, if I look at you with vacant stare
And cannot laugh, or smile, or speak your name,
Have pity on the poor soul troubled there.
It is not lack of love that is to blame.
But if you first should reach senility,
I could not bare your loss of knowing me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem