I bind my hopes with 

stone, brick and steel 

as if

I am mortar for

stone, brick and steel?

.

I stand beneath that window 

so that

sometimes at night

she, if awakened from a dream, 

might see me once

.

This killing faithfulness 

lives with my every breath

.

In night’s dead hours 

two remain awake;

I’m one, the other, 

a chimney of a mill, 

a rich man’s personal effect

.

Each moment passes

night wanes

life shortens

with each breath

I don’t even have the strength 

to stitch my lips 

as if a wound,

nor to sip grief as if bane, 

nor even to live

while away from her.

.

From: Yāden̲ (Remembrances), 1963. pp. 181 – 82