I was not sorrowful, I could not weep
And all my memories were put to sleep

I watched the river grow more white and strange
All day till evening I watched it change

All day till evening I watched the rain
Beat wearily upon the window pane

I was not sorrowful, but only tired
Of everything that ever I desired

Her lips, her eyes, all day became to me
The shadow of a shadow utterly

All day [mine]1 hunger for her heart became
Oblivion, until the evening came

And left me sorrowful, inclined to weep
With all my memories that could not sleep