Poetry Archives

As rivers seek the sea,
  Much more deep than they,
So my soul seeks thee
  Far away:
As running rivers moan
On their course alone
  So I moan
  Left alone.

As the delicate rose
  To the sun’s sweet strength
Doth herself unclose,
  Breadth and length:
So spreads my heart to thee
Unveiled utterly,
  I to thee
  Utterly.

As morning dew exhales
  Sunwards pure and free,
So my spirit fails
  After thee:
As dew leaves not a trace
On the green earth’s face;
  I, no trace
  On thy face.

Its goal the river knows,
  Dewdrops find a way,
Sunlight cheers the rose
  In her day:
Shall I, lone sorrow past,
Find thee at the last?
  Sorrow past,
  Thee at last?