Poetry Archives

I’ve often laughed and oftener still have wept,
A sighing always through my laughter crept,
Tears were not far away…
What is there to say?

I’ve spoken much and oftener held by tongue,
For still the most was neither said nor sung.
Could I but tell it so…
What is there to know?

I’ve hated much and loved, oh so much more!
Fierce contrasts at my very heartstrings tore…
I tried to fight them—well…
What is there to tell?