Три американки

My forefathers gave me

My spirit’s shaken flame,

The shape of hands, the beat of heart,

The letters of my name.

The rest may die – but is there not

Some shining strange escape for me

Who sought in Beauty the bright wine

Of immortality?

And love if your feet can run;

But grief will still be there

When the game is done.

When I am dead and over me bright April Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,

Though you should lean above me broken-hearted, I shall not care.

I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful When rain bends down the bough;

And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted Than you are now.

Good only to make wishes on

And then forever to be gone.

And I who was fresh as the rainfall

Am bitter as the sea.

How many times we must have met

Here on the street as strangers do,

Children of chance we were, who passed

The door of heaven and never knew.

His kiss was not so wonderful

As all the dreams I had.

I gave my third love silence
Through all the years.
My first love gave me singing,
My second eyes to see,
But oh, it was my third love
Who gave my soul to me.