My Hands Clasped

My hands clasped under a veil, dim and hazy…"Why are you so pale and upset?"That’s because I today made him

With the sour wine of regret.

Can't forget!

He got out, astound,

With his mouth distorted by pain...

I, not touching the railing, ran down,

I was running to him till the lane.

Fully choked,

I cried, "That's a joke --All that was.

You get out,

I'll die."And he smiled very calmly, like stroke:"It is windy right here -- pass by."