Vainly

And as I cast myself into the stream,

I know I am the only one to blame:

For once I was so foolish as to dream,

And in my waking, life was not the same.

For lies are ill esteemed.

And vainly I have dreamed.

I never should have dared to entertain

So flighty an emotion as my hope;

With pure despair at least I would be sane,

Contently with my sorrow I could cope:

For lies are ill esteemed.

But vainly I have dreamed.

And in my vanity I fancied I

Might someday be of worth, in any way - 

But wings of cloth do not make people fly,

And fantasies are hollow by the day.

Lies are ill esteemed;

Vainly I have dreamed.

And as the water takes me in its hold

I will myself to dream my final dream - 

So as my ribs contract against the cold,

I think of flying through the moonlight’s gleam - 

But lies are ill esteemed,

And vainly do I dream.

And so the current carries me, resigned,

Runs gently through my fingers and my hair,

And frees me from this life I live confined - 

How peaceful lies my heart in this despair!

For lies are ill esteemed;

But this is what I dreamed.

And in this perfect comfort I have found,

The water holds me, gently, with such care,

That I might fly - I do not touch the ground,

And but my lungs would know the stream from air.

But lies are ill esteemed;

This too is vainly dreamed.

For even in this comfort, there is fear,

And even in this sleep, my dreaming stalls,

For even in this fantasy, I hear

The thundering of ever-nearing falls.

Though lies are ill esteemed,

No more need this be dreamed.