(From the French of Georges Jamin)
I am distraught under a grievous blow.
Each moment teems with mem’ries of the friend
That I have lost, and to my own life’s end
And aching void left in my heart I’ll know.
The slightest cause will make his image grow
Clear in my mind, my heart anew to rend;
At each small noise my head I downward bend
To see if he is there with me – but no!
In all my pain a voice is whispering on,
“Why not another, since the first is gone?
“You’ll need a friend to cheer the lonely days”.
Nay, not in this way will I ease the knife;
Though bitterly I wander now through life
No other dog, my Floc, shall take your place!
7. 3. 29