I only want to talk to you,
To walk and spend an hour.
I only ask to see your smile,
And love you for a little while.
But you say:
It's not your turn to look at me,
Or listen to me breathe.
You cannot touch, you will not hear
The rustling of my sleeves.
It's not for you I ask these things,
It's just my lonely disposition.
My situation's getting tough,
My demands are not so much.
But you say:
It's not your turn to stay awhile,
Go and find some winning guile,
Turn away you can't stay long,
Your desires are prematurely born.
Go away.
And now these days lag like wounds
That will not heal or seal my pain.
My need is more than I can endure.
Yet you say:
Offer some other church your money,
Call some other Mary honey,
Nail some other rightless wrong,
Offer some other girl your song.
Hoard it for the white-necked lay,
Don't cast a shadow here today.
You know you cannot stay.
It's not your turn today.
It's not your turn.
Turn away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem