To toss upon the sleepless hour
Is to test imagination's power;
But lo, the mind cannot sustain,
Sweet visions fade in weak refrain;
Visions of love in sacred trust,
The sweetest memories - loving lust,
Turn sour and cruel in memory's train,
And cancel joys on balanced pain;
Love keeps a book to hold account,
The joy, the pain, in each amount;
And sums the ledger in the end,
And cancels gains along with friends.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh the abacus of life! Said so well.