I've never envied another woman
For her jewels or garments finely sewn,
But I can't conceal the envy I feel
Knowing she has love to call her own
To see her walking as though she had wings
On her feet makes me pause in wonder;
And hard though I try, I cannot deny
I envy this spell that she's under
Once an elderly couple caught my eye - -
A man and woman whose youth had flown,
But her countenance, in radiant trance,
Left no doubt his love was hers alone
What misdeeds have I done that were so wrong?
Tell me for which sins I must atone!
I don't ask for much - a warm hand to clutch,
Just a love that I can call my own
But lonely days and nights turned into years,
And O, how my restlessness has grown!
I fear I shall die without knowing why
I never had love to call my own
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sad but beautifully written poem on the longing for love.