Đoạn kết An end

An end

​I have no heart for any other joy,
The drenched September day turns to depart,
And I have said good-bye to what I love,
With my own will I vanquished my own heart.

​On the long wind I hear the winter coming—
The window-panes are cold and blind with rain;
With my own will I turned the summer from me,
And summer will not come to me again.