A Song At The End

Jaroslav Seifert

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Listen: about little Hendele.
She came back to me yesterday
and she was twenty-four already.
And as graceful as Shulamite.

She wore an ash-gray squirrel fur
and a pert little cap
and round her neck she’d tied a scarf
the colour of pale smoke.

Hendele, how well this suits you!
I thought that you were dead
and meanwhile you have grown more beautiful.
I am glad you’ve come!

How wrong you are, dear friend!
I’ve been dead twenty years,
and very well you know it.
I’ve only come to meet you.

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