Come to me in my dreams, and then by day I shall be well again.
For the night will more than pay the hopeless longing of the day.
Come as thou cam'st a thousand times.
A messenger from radiant climes,
A smile on they new world,
and be as kind to others as to me.
Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth,
come now and let me dream it truth.
And paint my hair,
and kiss my brow,
And say- my love! Why sufferest thou?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem