The song is best that never sounded
In tones, but was gloriously dreamed.
The drink is sweetest that, offered, foamed
In the goblet, but was never downed.
The word is best that was not said
But only tremblingly presaged,
And the happiness glows most brightly whose splendour
You spied in your dream in the distance.
For songs that never were let to ring out
Never grow tuneless or cracked,
And the intoxicating sweetness never runs out
In drink that has not been drunk
Around words of love that no one hears,
Around happiness that can never be won,
In eternal beauty that never lies
The dream’s entire nimbus is spun.
Bertel Gripenberg (1878 - 1947) Finland
Translated by David McDuff
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