Classic Poem

There is that in my heart that will not let me sleep;
There is that beneath my heart that cries without a voice.
I was not alone in the summer:
In the winter I was all alone.
The ashes on my hearth are red, but not with fire.

Many times he kissed me on the eyes,
And many, many times upon the mouth.
And he said to me: " Thou art mine. "
And to him I said: " I am thine. "
The ashes on my hearth are red, but not with fire.

Then when I had waited many days
He came to me, and all the bells were ringing.
He came only to say that he must go.
" Why must you go? " I asked that fair evil.
And he answered: " They wait for me at the wedding. "
Then that beneath my heart cried without a voice,
And I spake to him as it bade me:
" Go then, but not until I have given thee a last kiss. "
And as he lay upon the wolf-skin before my fire,
I, with my dagger dear,
Made a new mouth to kiss, above his heart.
Red, red its lips: I kissed them many times.
The ashes on my hearth are red, but not with fire.