And still I see thee everywhere
the light, the dirt, the limitless air
I turn, yet look back again
the songs of past. pleasure and pain
sing their dirge upon my head
bring no flowers to my deathbed
save but the worms, what might grow of me?
the grass, a weed, or forgotten memory
might the earth behold a secret you not of
a faint whisper of the myth of love
and might she beg the clouds to rain
to wash out the past and the pain
where all that remains is dust and pleasure
from which rebounds endless gardens to measure
the lilacs, lavenders and daffodils
a view that calls thee to these hills
where might you pluck a flower of me
and recall my forgotten memory
and for an instant see me there
in the light, the dirt and limitless air
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem