Why do I think on thee,
Dearest, oh! say?
Why do I think on thee,
Far—far away?
Wan is my cheek and pale
Watching for thee;
Why should I weep and wail?
Come, love, to me.
Though fair ones surround thee,
The witty—the gay—
Wilt thou remember me,
Far—far away?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem