It may not always be so
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And I say that if your lips
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Which I have loved
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Should touch another's
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And your dear strong fingers clutch his heart
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As mine in time not far away
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If on another's face your sweet hair lay
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In such a silence as I know
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Or such great writhing words as, uttering overmuch
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Stand helplessly before the spirit at bay
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If this should be, I say if this should be
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You of my heart, send me a little word
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That I may go unto her, and take her hands saying
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Accept all happiness from me
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Then shall I turn my face
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And hear one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands
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Sonnets / Unrealities XI
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| Bjork |
