This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
"Quelque part une Enfance
très douce doit mourir"
Albert Samian

Alas! I do not know on what sad day
My childhood went away . . .
It may have left me softly in the night
When I was sleeping—dreaming—who can tell?
Perhaps it whispered "wings were made for flight!"
I only know it never said "farewell" . . .

And so I cannot tell when youth will go
Although I love it so . . .

16