Talk of the Heart — To My Grandmother

They say... that I have the flutter of your bearing,
and in the proudness of my walk, and in my pride, there are things of you...
You, my grandmother, who went before me in time... sixty springs,
and learned by trial — what men love and what they do not love.
Come, tell me of this weighty riddle they call "he!"
What is there in the roughness of his broad palms!
And what in his eyes — his two questioning eyes?
When shall I believe, and when shall I not believe, their whispered confiding?
Come, tell me, my grandmother!!

*

And when the water of youth dries up in my body, and it becomes like a dry stick of wood,
will memories — memories of love — waken in it those sweet tremors?!
Will my heart beat at the meeting of two lovers?
Or will this delicious feeling, which shakes me today and floods me with rapture,
become, across the ages,
— a song whose melody is forgotten?!