Poem. . . set to flute music, along the line of common song of unrequited love;
What would I say if I had the words?
Why should I say anything at all?
If through not-action everything is done,
Through silence is all spoken?
What would I say if I had the words?
I dream in the wonders of music and verse
Yet daylight hours condemn me to prose
Is music only a waking dream?
What would I say if I had the words?
Would I tell you I loved you and find it true?
Does making it verbal make it real?
Should I say nothing to bind thee less?
What would I say if I had the words?
Would I tell of laughter and song?
Or would I spill woe all day long?
Perhaps silence is best.
So now that the words are not allowed
I find that I need them more than ever
Life flows onward, me in the lee;
And I, I say nothing. . . .
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