Say not: “We wished you were with us”
I know’t without your saying thus
You miss me, this I hold as true
But worse is I who’s missing you
'Cause each of you recalls the fun
And yearns, but for a person one
Yet, friends, the sorrow’s surely mine
I, who for all of you, must pine!
And recollect the days we spent
In solace, ease, and merriment
The joy of love, O sunny spell,
And cosy moments nonpareil
No doubt, most happy times were they
A Morphic dream, an Orphic lay
But every song must end, my dears,
Yea, every vision disappears
As bitterness shakes off our trance
Wakes us to miles of severance
Shows us ‘real life’: delight and spleen
And us, but swingers in between!
Beirut
April 15th 1989
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem