When you go in the still of the dawning…
Steal secretly from the warmth of my bed…
From all my love’s unfettered compassion.
In the coolness of the early morning,
Let your gentle footfall silently tread…
Lightly.

In the quietude of the blesséd hush…
Released thereto from all things left unsaid…
As a flower bends in yielding fashion
To the brushing touch of the light wind rush,
Then be sure to caress my slumbering head…
Softly.

Lest I hear your parting breath and awake…
Lest I am bestirred of my grief too soon.
Disturb me not with morbid dispassion.
Bid me not farewell…do not you forsake
Our love, beset to bitter misfortune…
Sourly.

I should lament this moment with a sigh…
In deep contemplation to mourn thereof…
When ears deaf are wont not to persuasion…
For ardour’s ending thus is drawing nigh,
And treason’s faithlessness consumes all love…
Bitterly.

All that is left…all that remains of you…
Is the heavy musky scent that lingers
On my crumpled bedsheet…your sweet passion,
There…where our bodies’ fluids mingled too,
And the searing marks of gripping fingers…
Roughly.

When you at last depart from here…to where,
Relinquish you not all fair thoughts of me…
Nor our cherished memories unfasten.
Leave not unthinking your capricious care…
Leave not your whole love on the cold latch-key…
Cruelly.