Serenade

Fradl Shtok

1910

And if the night
In its blue cloak
Abandons wood and vale,
And softly cries
With tears of dew
And crystal shards,
Then tear my heart
Out of my breast
And wash it in the dew—
And with your lips
Suck out of me
My quiet “Oh.”

Translated by
Kathryn
Hellerstein
.
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