My sweet, here at the foot o fyour last bed
In which you're resting now from your long life,
I've come and always will, poor dearest wife,
To bring you the companion's heart you wed.

It pulses from affection tried and true
And which, despite all human drudgery,
Had made our life's existence ecstasy
And brought our home a world for me and you.

I bring you flowers,—remnants plucked now faded
From earth that saw us jointly walk this way
And now has left us dead and separated.

If l, within my wounded eyes today
Still carry thoughts of life I´d formulated,
Those thoughts once lived, but now they've gone away.


Translated by Frederic G. William