Classic Poem

Did I stand on the bald top of Nefin
And my hundred-times loved one with me,
We should nestle together as safe in
Its shade as the birds on a tree.

From your lips such a music is shaken,
When you speak it awakens my pain,
And my eyelids by sleep are forsaken,
And I seek for my slumber in vain.

But were I on the fields of the ocean,
I should sport on its infinite room,
I should plough through the billow's commotion
Though my friends should look dark at my doom.

For the flower of all maidens of magic
Is beside me where'er I may be,
Not a woman takes pity on me.
And my heart like a coal is extinguished,

How well for the birds in all weather,
They rise up on high in the air
And then sleep upon one bough together
Without sorrow or trouble or care;

But so it is not in this world
For myself and my thousand times fair,
For away, far apart from each other,
Each day rises barren and bare.