To an unknown

The twilight had long passed,

I could not see you, you walked along,

Then, you had spoken some soft words

In endearing seriousness, that won my heart.

Quietly, we drew near, you rose

And softly we said good night,

Your visage was mask'd by the enveloping darkness,

I did not ask for your name.

Now, my eyes will never recognize you,

If you once pass me by,

And if I hear other lips say your name,

So, that name will tell me nothing of you.

And yet you will live eternally in me,

As a sound lives in the quiet air,

And as I cannot give shape and form to you,

So, also no tears can place you in the tomb.

Life has mysterious hours,

When, nature itself knows my fate;

Then we bleed but feel no wounds,

We are happy then and pleased with no reason.

Perhaps then these too-fleeting associations

of familiar things will grow more familiar;

If I tremble, rejoice or weep,

It is memory of you, which helps me endure.