Despairing Cries.

1

DESPAIRING cries float ceaselessly toward me, day and night,

The sad voice of Death—the call of my nearest lover, putting forth, alarmed,

uncertain,

This sea I am quickly to sail, come tell me,

Come tell me where I am speeding—tell me my destination.



2

I understand your anguish, but I cannot help you,

I approach, hear, behold—the sad mouth, the look out of the eyes, your mute inquiry,

Whither I go from the bed I now recline on, come tell me;

Old age, alarmed, uncertain—A young woman’s voice appealing to me, for comfort,

A young man’s voice, Shall I not escape?