The secret song

There are secret pains

Whose lament is never tongued;

Borne deep in the heart

They are unknown to the world.

There is a secret longing

That always shies from the light;

There are hidden tears

A stranger does not see.

There is a quiet sinking

Into an inner world

Where peaceful meadows beckon,

Lit by the gleam of stars,

Where, all boundaries fallen,

The soul raises Heaven

And with jubilation

Confides its thoughts to the lips.

There is a quiet passing

Into silent, desolate pain,

And no one is allowed to see

That heavy-pressed heart.

It does not say what it needs,

And though it breaks with grief,

Tortured to death and bleeding,

The stranger does not see it.

There is a gentle slumber

Where sweet peace abides,

Where quiet rest heals the cares

Of the weary soul.

There is yet a lovely hoping

That soars above all worlds,

Where, open to another heart,

The heart lies filled with love.