DESCRIPTION

Your love for me is fading.

 It may not have been born long ago,

 it may have been only an imagined fantasy

 - if it ever lasted.

 I have been reduced to an aimless target,

 because I could not find you,

 and because you did not take

 the wise and wise will to seek me at all,

 though I thirsted for your existence

 like a hot sunset,

 with a wounded heart!

 And I could not get enough of it!

Thy eyes, that never gave up Hope cherished,

 and, if need be, with tears

 of mirth at the betrayal of blood-pain,

 humble, charming, and telling

- Our passion must have been

 but an undeveloped vestige,

 a stint on the altar of our deserved passions:

 how far faded in bloom our missed,

 yarrow-lived kiss-warfare:

 The charming and naive series

 Of child-kisses yet daring to believe 

- I have held thy hands,

 though thy fragile bones

 were far from me,

 And know that our vulnerable

 consciences have too often

 been deceived and betrayed;

 - Around us, gently trembling tears,

 tiny meteors, asteroids,

 trembled, and when thy sprained,

 graceful, graceful, and foam-light ankles,

 as a helping shield, 

On the crevice of my shoulders,

 with calm will Thou

 mightst have rested! 

I condemned, believe me, 

foolish ulterior motives!

 I have seen thee, with thy lovely lily-head,

 How and how the autumnal rays of the rain,

 With mischievous sweetness,

 caressing, how and how it beckons

- Now, still, my silent tears,

 streaming after thee, are useless,

 and ever longing, With girlish delight,

 thou mayst return to me,

 But thy wedding-ring and 

thy adult voice of severity,

 with eloquent proof,

 Cut me to the orderly

 state of things, - I would not,

I would not have thee hate me,

 for thou art still dear to me:

 The immortal Eternity may yet be

 opening its petals before thee:

 Our souls still tremble with murderous

 farewells,

 unforgettable memories...