Lament For Thee Gone

Forsaken the ground where we the bed shared,
Forsaken the ground where thy bright apparel
Would fall unnoticed when our passions flared,
And spilled out of us in hands' and lips' carol.
I pace here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

Forsaken the ground where our fire burned,
Forsaken the ground where the sun rose for us.
Of course, we hardly noticed the sunlight returned,
So involved were we in the bright light of lust.
I walk here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

Forsaken the ground where thy golden hair
Spilled about me as I lay composing a song
For the sake of thee, since thou wert so fair.
Thou smiled at it, and me, and teased me long.
I pace here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

Forsaken the ground where I still learn
The grace of thy footsteps, the passionate dance
Thy body and soul made together, and stern
And heartbreaking the love through me would lance.
I walk here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

Thank heaven this ground was not the place
Thou told me that a sign had come from above-
That thou hadst looked upon a stranger's face,
And learned anew the meaning, the name of love.
I pace here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

Thank heaven this ground was not the spot
That thou turned thy back on me for all time,
Nor ever tainted by the bright words forgot
That I whispered to thy shoulders, my last rhyme.
I walk here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

I have seen thee since, when the happy faces
Of the wedding party flooded out and about thee.
I have seen thee since, when all the graces
Of my life could not bind me to courtesy.
I pace here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

I wonder if I should rejoice that thy lots
Of sorrow and unhappiness are equal to mine.
I wonder if I should rejoice that the spots
Of care and worry are marking both thee and thine.
I walk here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

Somehow, I cannot, though I know no other
Would ever satisfy thee, that thou made a mistake.
Somehow, I cannot, though I know thy lover
Has turned to a tyrant, has become a rake.
I pace here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

But neither can I turn back the river of time;
There is no dam that will make me forget
Thy words that choked off my flood of rhyme,
That linger, searing, in my mind yet.
I walk here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

I cannot turn away, but I know no others
Still remember the tenderness of our love.
I cannot turn away, but I know many lovers
Have passed since the beginning under Heaven above.
I pace here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

What makes my sorrow so piercing at times?
What makes me weep, and shudder, and still long?
What makes me unable to make or sing rhymes?
What makes me yearn for thee in my dammed song?
I walk here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

Though lovers have said since the world was formed
That their passion was unique- still, so say I.
Though grief on many a pair of lovers has stormed,
Still I think the bitterest tears leave my eye.
I pace here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

Though lovers have lamented since history dawned
About what they felt when their lovers left,
Still I think there is a new lament in thee pawned,
That I have something new to say when bereft.
I walk here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

I remember the brightness, how sunlight storms
Poured over us, and made us with the sun strive.
I remember how fire flourished in our twined forms,
And our very sweat made us glad to be alive.
I pace here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

I stand there often, with my face to the dawn,
And wonder why our love affair did me such wrong.
I have made and sung this lament for thee gone,
As I have not sung in ten years such a song.
I walk here often, and I think of thee-
Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?

Dost thou ever, I wonder, think about me?...