I was not sorrowful, I could not weep,
And all my memories were put to sleep.

I watched the river grow more white and strange,
All day till evening I watched it change.

All day till evening I watched the rain
Beat wearily upon the window pane.

I was not sorrowful, but only tired
Of everything that ever I desired.

Her lips, her eyes, all day became to me
The shadow of a shadow utterly.

All day [mine]1 hunger for her heart became
Oblivion, until the evening came,

And left me sorrowful, inclined to weep,
With all my memories that could not sleep.

About the headline (FAQ)

View original text (without footnotes)

Confirmed with Ernest Dowson, Verses, London: Leonard Smithers, 1896, page 22.

¹ K. Sorabji: "my" (in manuscript, although critical edition suggests that original text should be respected)

Text Authorship:

• by Ernest Christopher Dowson (1867 - 1900), "Spleen", appears in Verses, London, Leonard Smithers, first published 1896 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

• by Frederick Delius (1862 - 1934), "I was not sorrowful, I could not weep", 1906-7, published 1911 [ baritone, chorus, and orchestra ], from Songs of Sunset, no. 7 [sung text checked 1 time]
• by John (Nicholson) Ireland (1879 - 1962), "I was not sorrowful (Spleen)", 1903, published 1912 [ voice and piano ], from Songs of a Wayfarer, no. 4 [sung text checked 1 time]
• by Kaikhosru Sorabji (1892 - 1988), "I was not sorrowful", KSS 11 (1917), published 2006, first performed 2002 [ voice and piano ], Bath, The Sorabji Archive; critical edition; confirmed with Roberge's critical edition [sung text checked 1 time]

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

• SPA Spanish (Español) (Poom Andrew Pipatjarasgit) , copyright © 2022, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Research team for this page: Ted Perry , Poom Andrew Pipatjarasgit [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 14
Word count: 104

Yo no estaba afligido, no podía llorar,
Y todas mis memorias se pusieron acostadas.

Miré el río creciendo más blanco y extraño,
Todo el día hasta la tarde lo miré cambiar.

Todo el día hasta la tarde miré la lluvia
Batiendo tristemente sobre el cristal de ventana.

Yo no estaba afligido, sino cansado
De todo lo que siempre deseaba.

Para mí, sus labios, sus ojos, y todo el día
Se volvieron totalmente la sombra de una sombra.

Toda mi ansia de su corazón se hizo
El olvido, hasta la llegada de la tarde,

Y me dejó afligido, a llorar,
Con todas mis memorias que no podían acostarse.