I love my life, but not too well
To give it to thee like a flower,
So it may pleasure thee to dwell
Deep in its perfume but an hour.
I love my life, but not too well.

I love my life, but not too well
To sing it note by note away,
So to thy soul the song may tell
The beauty of the desolate day.
I love my life, but not too well.

I love my life, but not too well
To cast it like a cloak on thine,
Against the storms that sound and swell
Between thy lonely heart and mine.
I love my life, but not too well.

I love all beauteous things,
I seek and adore them;
God hath no better praise,
And man in his hasty days
Is honoured for them.

I too will something make
And joy in the making!
Altho' tomorrow it seem'
Like the empty words of a dream
Remembered, on waking.

I Love in old days Clara d'Ellébeuse,
The school-girl of old boarding-schools,
Who, on warm evenings, sat beneath the limes,
Reading the magazines of olden times.

I love but her. Upon my heart is streaming
The blue light of her white breast.
Where is she now? Where was this happy nest?
Branches peered into the room where she was dreaming.

It may be possible she is not dead.
Perhaps we both were dead behind those walls.
In the great court-yard withered leaves were shed
In the cold wind of very olden falls.

I long to put on saffron robes
And find out where my love has gone,
Roam in every town and village
And over hill and dale.

I'd glide into his bower
With love in every limb,
And gather in my eyes a bouquet
Of flowers that do not fade.

If my love would only look at me,
Leaving his high disdain.
I'd be. the Shravan jessamine,
Abloom with youth and joy.

I hear the God of Love will come to the Dal
And spend the night at Telbal

I live, and yet methinks I do not breathe,
I thirst, and drink, and drink, and thirst again,
I sleep, and yet I dream I am awake,
I hope for that I have; I have and want:
I sing and sigh; I love and hate at once.
Oh! tell me, restless soul, what uncouth jar
Doth cause such want in store, in peace such war?

I LIKE YOU Met I LOVE You, face to face;
The path was narrow, and they could not pass.
I LIKE YOU smiled; I LOVE YOU cried, Alas!
And so they halted for a little space.

'Turn thou and go before,' I LOVE YOU said,
'Down the green pathway, bright with many a flower;
Deep in the valley, lo! my bridal bower
Awaits thee.' But I LIKE YOU shook his head.

Then while they lingered on the span-wide shelf
That shaped a pathway round the rocky ledge,
I LIKE You bared his icy dagger's edge,
And first he slew I LOVE You,--then himself.

I leave thee for awhile, my love, I leave thee with a sigh;
The fountain spring within my soul is playing in mine eye;
I do not blush to own the tear,--let, let it touch my cheek,
And what my lip has failed to tell, that drop perchance may speak.
Mavourneen! when again I seek my green isle in the West,
Oh, promise thou wilt share my lot, and set this heart at rest.

I leave thee for awhile, my love; but every hour will be
Uncheered and lonely till the one that brings me back to thee.
I go to make my riches more; but where is man to find

I know you little, I love you lots,
my love for you could fill ten pots,
fifteen buckets, sixteen cans,
three teacups, and four dishpans.

I KNOW my Love by his way of walking,
And I know my love by his way of talking,
And I know my love dressed in a suit of blue,
And if my Love leaves me, what will I do?
And still she cried, “I love him the best,
And a troubled mind, sure, can know no rest,”
And still she cried, “Bonny boys are few,
And if my Love leaves me, what will I do?”

There is a dance house in Mar’dyke,
And there my true love goes every night;
He takes a strange one upon his knee,

I know a man
who photographed the view he saw
from the window of the room where he made love
and not the face of the woman he loved there.


Translated by Chana Bloch