AND IF BRANCHES 

And if the branches tap the pane
And poplars trembling quiver;
Thine image comes to mind again;
I see thee gliding hither.

And if the star shine beats the lake,
Its sombre depths illuming;
This but to sooth my longing ache,
And rouse my thoughts from glooming.

And if the storm clouds disappear,
And forth the moon comes shining;
It only tells thou hast no peer,
And sole- supreme art reigning.

English version by Sylvia Pankhurst and I. O. Stefanovici

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