You came and in your charming easy way
You hold my hand and whisper of delight,
You mocking count my pulse – I turn away
To tell you that the swift beat is from fright.
As so I lie? What matter if I lie?
And if my hear pounds answer so you know,
Other things than hearts shrink up and die,
It may well be a soul – oh, please, please go!
(October 1948)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem