Sonnets / Unrealities XI - Björk

It may not always be so

And I say that if your lips

Which I have loved

Should touch another’s

And your dear strong fingers clutch her heart

As mine in time not far away

If on another’s face your sweet hair lay

In such a silence as I know

Or such great writhing words as, uttering overmuch

Stand helplessly before the spirit at bay

If this should be, I say if this should be

You of my heart, send me a little word

That I may go unto her, and take her hands saying

Accept all happiness from me

Then I shall turn my face

And hear one bird sing terribly afar in the lost lands