A man is standing in the hall br His house not recognizing. br Her sudden leaving was a flight, br Herself, maybe, surprising. br br The chaos reigning in the room br He does not try to master. br His tears and headache hide in gloom br The extent of his disaster. br br His ears are ringing all day long br As though he has been drinking. br And why is it that all the time br Of waves he keeps on thinking? br br When frosty window-panes blank out br The world of light and motion, br Despair and grief are doubly like br The desert of the ocean. br br She was as dear to him, as close br In all her ways and features, br As is the seashore to the wave, br The ocean to the beaches. br br As over rushes, after storm br The swell of water surges, br Into the deepness of his soul br Her memory submerges. br br In years of strife, in times which were br Unthinkable to live in, br Upon a wave of destiny br To him she had been driven, br br Through countless obstacles, and past br All dangers never-ended, br The wave had carried, carried her, br Till close to him she'd landed. br br And now, so suddenly, she'd left. br What power overrode them? br The parting will destroy them both, br The grief bone-deep corrode them. br br He looks around him. On the floor br In frantic haste she'd scattered br The contents of the cupboard, scraps br Of stuff, her sewing patterns. br br He wanders through deserted rooms br And tidies up for hours; br Till darkness falls he folds away br Her things into the drawers; br br And pricks his finger on a pin br In her unfinished sewing, br And sees the whole of her again, br And silent tears come flowing.