The river slowly slipped between banks of dappled green,
Oblivious to the noisy world of men,
The sibilant sound of its sojourn among the reeds
Like kisses in the air or the swish of skirts,
Its comforting sussuration, gentle counterpoint
To the clamour of my wildly beating heart.

In its long journey from the excitement of its birth
Long ago in the cool of alpine meadows,
It must have heard many similar stories to mine,
The longing sighs of many ardent lovers
Anxiously whispered in the dark hours twixt dusk and dawn,
Fearful that their desire was unrequited.

How I wished that it would speak that reassuring word
I so desperately sought to calm my fears,
But the flowing stream was cruelly oblivious
To the sharp anguish gripping my fevered soul,
And despite my most fervent and heartfelt entreaties,
No message would it carry on my behalf.

How I wished I had the poet's skill to speak sweet words,
Which would convince my heart's desire of my love,
And lulled by the warm light of a Springtime afternoon,
Lying in the soft grass by the water’s edge,
I dream that the music of my passionate longings
Will be carried on the wind to touch her mind.

But in the cold clear light of the dawn my fears return,
And I drown once more in despairing torment,
Convicted by a sense of utter futility,
Knowing that I am forever unworthy,
To be united with such heavenly perfection,
Eternally condemned to suffer alone.