I whispered to my soul – I asked last night:
Will she recall my stranded violin?
-„Never! he answered – if your mind is right,
Stop dreaming, it’s your time to play and win –
Loving this world that dwells right here, within,
You will, once more, come fighting through the day!”
My sleepy wings then flew me sweet and lean
Over the treetops, in their winter sway.
„Never!” he answered, as I went away
Asleep, perchance to find my drifting life,
Living, perchance to cloud the world in gray,
In shades of silver, seeding war and strife.
Some day, one August noon, I’ll bring her stars and sand,
And gently, as a child, I’ll hold her longing hand.