Pardon the faults in me,
For the love of years ago:
Good—bye.
I must drift across the sea,
I must sink into the snow,
I must die.
 
You can bask in this sun,
You can drink wine, and eat:
Good—bye.
I must gird myself and run,
Though with unready feet:
I must die.
 
Blank sea to sail upon,
Cold bed to sleep in:
Good—bye.
While you clasp, I must be gone
For all your weeping:
I must die.
 
A kiss for one friend,
And a word for two,—
Good—bye:—
A lock that you must send,
A kindness you must do:
I must die.
 
Not a word for you,
Not a lock or kiss,
Good—bye.
We, one, must part in two;
Verily death is this:
I must die.

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Fahime Mirzapour saaleha i bamjee Francisco Ganem Chactas R. L. McCallum Tia