Bard of a hundred thousand starlit trysts,
Recorder of a million heartbeats' tones,
Will you write the memorial couplets
For my Love o'er whom the north wind moans?
But one short summer we walked side by side,
For us nightingales sang and roses bloomed,
The future promised-O, the future lied:
The love once warmed by summer has been doomed
To eternal winter's chilling prisons,
O my Love who so rashly journeyed far
Seeking wisdom in the Norsemen's visions
Alone beneath the distant northern stars,
Thou art lost to the endless mountains' ice
And the fate that took thee grips me in its vice