The French people are very democratical in their tendencies, but they must have a visible type of hero-worship, and they find it in the bearer of tha… - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Kulağına çalınan sevdiğin bir ses,
Sustuysa, tatlılığını yitirdiyse aniden,
Çığlıkla yırtmaya cesaret edemediğin bir sessizlik,
Kuvvetli, taze bir hastalık gibi acıtıyorsa seni,
Ne ümidi? Ne yardımı? Nasıl bir müzik silebilir,
Bu sessizliği kulaklarından?

I tell you hopeless grief is passionless,
That only men incredulous of despair,
Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air
Beat upward to God’s throne in loud access
Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness
In souls, as countries, lieth silent-bare
Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare
Of the absolute heavens. Deep-hearted man, express
Grief for thy dead in silence like to death — Most like a monumental statue set
In everlasting watch and moveless woe
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.
Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet;
If it could weep, it could arise and go.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.