«When your sadness will be too much»

I won't be here, I'll have awayed apace,
Dissolved in the ground like many before,
And in my favourite coffeeplace,
Waiters will see me no more.

And on the streets where I have passed
My dry cough will not be heard;
Over my tomb with silence amassed
A monk-like cypress tree will loom absurd.

Sad you will be and that won't pass,
For in your room my life will not be felt;
And when the wind will blow against the glass
You slowly with the wind will melt.

But when your sadness will be too much
In the bookcase look for me,
For behind a word or letter or such,
There, in hiding I shall be.

You'll but have to move the book
And I will descend, come after you
And like a torrent feeds a brook
So, then, your laughter, like once, will run anew.

Dritëro AGOLLI

P.S.: One of my favourite poems, put in English verse by yours truly, with infinite apologies to the poet and Albanian readers who are familiar with and appreciate the original.