European Elegies/Summer/A name
79.A NAME
In an old note I found it—The name my heart is keeping.No mourning-border bound it,But I fell to weeping.Ah, I fell to weeping!
The hopes of happy hoursShe wrote with heart up-leaping;Her thoughts were sprays of flowers—But I fell to weeping.Ah, I fell to weeping!
That signature should settleAll sorrows into sleeping:Each stroke a soft rose-petal—But I fell to weeping.Ah, I fell to weeping!
No cry from her was riven,Only a promise sweeping,Only a sweet pledge given—But I fell to weeping.Ah, I fell to weeping!
From the Magyar of Mihaly Szabolcska.