So far away from you and lonely by the fire,
I think about my luckless life while sitting here,
I seem to be eighty, and feel that I've lived
As long a time as winter, - that you're already dead.
Memories seep drop by drop into my soul,
Awakening within me what was once trivial;
The wind taps against the pane with its fingers,
The thread of tender moments is spun and lingers,
And there through the mist you again go past me
Tears in your large eyes, slender hands, icy,
With arms round my neck, you stay clinging
As if you'd something to tell me ... then you're sobbing...
Such treasure of love and beauty I hold close to my heart,
United in kisses, sad lives kept apart...
From now on let the voice of memory always be silent,
So I'll never again remember that chance moment,
For after that moment you tore yourself away...
I shall be old and lonely, you dead for many a day!
Departe sunt de tine
English translation by Brenda Walker
No comments:
Post a Comment