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| DARK to me is the earth. Dark to me are the heavens. | |
| Where is she that I loved, the woman with eyes like stars? | |
| Desolate are the streets. Desolate is the city. | |
| A city taken by storm, where none are left but the slain. | |
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| Sadly I rose at dawn, undid the latch of my shutters, | 5 |
| Thinking to let in light, but I only let in love. | |
| Birds in the boughs were awake; I listen’d to their chaunting; | |
| Each one sang to his love; only I was alone. | |
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| This, I said in my heart, is the hour of life and of pleasure. | |
| Now each creature on earth has his joy, and lives in the sun, | 10 |
| Each in another’s eyes finds light, the light of compassion, | |
| This is the moment of pity, this is the moment of love. | |
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| Speak, O desolate city! Speak, O silence in sadness! | |
| Where is she that I loved in my strength, that spoke to my soul? | |
| Where are those passionate eyes that appeal’d to my eyes in passion? | 15 |
| Where is the mouth that kiss’d me, the breast I laid to my own? | |
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| Speak, thou soul of my soul, for rage in my heart is kindled. | |
| Tell me, where didst thou flee on the day of destruction and fear? | |
| See, my arms still enfold thee, enfolding thus all heaven, | |
| See, my desire is fulfill’d in thee, for it fills the earth. | 20 |
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| Thus in my grief I lamented. Then turn’d I from the window, | |
| Turn’d to the stair, and the open door, and the empty street, | |
| Crying aloud in my grief, for there was none to chide me, | |
| None to mock my weakness, none to behold my tears. | |
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| Groping I went, as blind. I sought her house, my belovèd’s. | 25 |
| There I stopp’d at the silent door, and listen’d and tried the latch. | |
| Love, I cried, dost thou slumber? This is no hour for slumber, | |
| This is the hour of love, and love I bring in my hand. | |
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| I knew the house, with its windows barr’d, and its leafless fig-tree, | |
| Climbing round by the doorstep, the only one in the street; | 30 |
| I knew where my hope had climb’d to its goal and there encircled | |
| All that those desolate walls once held, my belovèd’s heart. | |
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| There in my grief she consoled me. She loved me when I loved not. | |
| She put her hand in my hand, and set her lips to my lips. | |
| She told me all her pain and show’d me all her trouble. | 35 |
| I, like a fool, scarce heard, hardly return’d her kiss. | |
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| Love, thy eyes were like torches. They changed as I beheld them. | |
| Love, thy lips were like gems, the seal thou sett’st on my life. | |
| Love, if I loved not then, behold this hour thy vengeance; | |
| This is the fruit of thy love and thee, the unwise grown wise. | 40 |
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| Weeping strangled my voice. I call’d out, but none answer’d; | |
| Blindly the windows gazed back at me, dumbly the door; | |
| She whom I love, who loved me, look’d not on my yearning, | |
| Gave me no more her hands to kiss, show’d me no more her soul. | |
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| Therefore the earth is dark to me, the sunlight blackness, | 45 |
| Therefore I go in tears and alone, by night and day; | |
| Therefore I find no love in heaven, no light, no beauty. | |
| A heaven taken by storm, where none are left but the slain! | |
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