117. Amelia Garrick

Yes, here I lie close to a stunted rose bush

In a forgotten place near the fence

Where the thickets from Siever’s woods

Have crept over, growing sparsely.

And you, you are a leader in New York,

The wife of a noted millionaire,

A name in the society columns,

Beautiful, admired, magnified perhaps

By the mirage of distance.

You have succeeded, I have failed

In the eyes of the world.

You are alive, I am dead.

Yet I know that I vanquished your spirit;

And I know that lying here far from you,

Unheard of among your great friends

In the brilliant world where you move,

I am really the unconquerable power over your life

That robs it of complete triumph.



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