My Heart Is Heavy
My heart is heavy with many a song Like ripe fruit bearing down the tree, But I can never give you one My songs do not belong to me.
Yet in the evening, in the dusk When moths1 go to and fro, In the gray hour if the fruit has fallen, Take it, no one will know. The Nights RememberThe days remember and the nights remember The kingly hours that once you made so great, Deep in my heart they lie, hidden in their splendor2, Buried like sovereigns in their robes of state.
Let them not wake again, better to lie there, Wrapped in memories, jewelled and arrayed Many a ghostly king has waked from death-sleep And found his crown stolen and his throne decayed.
