Translated by Bernard Miall - Wintry Desires lyrics

I mourn the lips of yesterday, Lips whose kisses are yet unborn, And the old desires outworn, Under sorrows hid away. Always rain on the far sky-line; Always snow on the beaches gleams, While by the bolted gate of dreams Crouching wolves in the gra**es whine. Into my listless soul I gaze: With clouded eyes I search the past, At all the long-spilt blood aghast Of lambs that died in wintry ways. Only the moon its mournful fires Enkindles, and a desolate light Falls where the autumn frosts are white Over my famishing desires.