GONE
by: Henrik Ibsen
- HE last, late guest
- To the gate we followed;
- Goodbye -- and the rest
- The night-wind swallowed.
-
- House, garden, street,
- Lay tenfold gloomy,
- Where accents sweet
- Had made music to me.
-
- It was but a feast
- With the dark coming on;
- She was but a guest --
- And now, she is gone.
'Gone' was originally published
in 1864. This English translation is reprinted from Lyrics
& Poems from Ibsen. Trans. Fydell Edmund Garrett. New
York: E.P. Dutton & Co., 1912. |
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