I have ceased and desisted from smiling The frosty wind chills lips - say so long To one hope of which will be lesser, Instead there will be one more song. And this song, without my volition, I will give out for laughter and parable, For this that the silence of love Is to me simply unbearable. The muse has left along narrow And winding street, And with large drops of dew Were sprinkled her feet. For long did I ask of her To wait for winter with me, But she said, "The grave is here, How can you breathe, you see?" I wanted to give her a dove That is whiter than all the rest But the bird herself flew above After my graceful guest. Looking at her I was silent, I loved her alone And like gates into her country In the sky stood the dawn.