Dark and welsh and sometimes gone,
I live in the footprint of King Kong;
And the days going pell-mell through the picketing
Throng;
And all these shooting, spuming things
Make me wonder how you came upon your
Diamond ring- Upon your child learning her first
Words from the hidden spring
I showed her using preschool telepathy- Now none
Of these words are good enough to be
The true thing,
But it’s true that I once saw you through the bus window
Driving by on a rainy day:
It was just one day, and you were just going your way,
And I wasn’t doing anything good enough with myself
To captivate you,
And so you soon went your way, up your hills to
A sunnier day,
But I kept along truncated in the unforgettable shadows of
Your unrequited yesterday;
And I’ll keep on following you, like a faithful pet
Panting over his master’s grave until the very resurrection
Day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem