Your look – how could I find it…
But you’re hiding looks…
Yes! You are scared – the barriers
Between us – to burn through…
When I’m gone to the shadow of column,
Quiet sullen and sad,
And the devouring thought
Covers me with a shade,
Then – for that cheerless rover
Only glance would you give,
In anxiety the silk is stirred
By your shivering fingers,
Your cheeks go flooded with blood,
Red is hard to be hided by the stuffy lace…
And I read in your obedient eyes
The love, which is unnecessary yet.
12 december 1913
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