How Sad Is Life for Me

How sad is life for me e'er since the day
My sweetheart to her grave has been consigned.
I drag myself about, a withered spray
Which blowing winds upon the highway find,

And borne about more lifeless grow and dry
Leaf after leaf they lose and then they die.

A sense of woe will often o'er me creep
And like a hungry beast, with brutal force
Its sharp claws in my heart will bury deep.
I curse aloud a fate which to the doors
Of heaven will lead us men, but which, alas!

Will not permit us o'er its threshold pass.
Most oft in silence I carry my grief.
Am I alive or dead? I do not know-
Friends speak to me, their speech gives no relief.
To what they say I listen not, and though
I used to be glad when they came. I own
I am now happiest when left alone.
I often roam about, without an aim
I walk and walk, till I — I know not how
To my beloved maid's sepulchre came,
A sweet hope holds me fast there, I avow.
This hope is: here my heart is rent in twain.
O hope! O hope! Why is all hope in vain.