Improvisation

One last kiss … then with tender eyes we went
Forth from the shadowy house of scattered light;
As children startled by a gruesome sight,
We wondered what the dim black waggon meant.

“A girl is dead,” we heard, and this was all;
But in my sleepless dreams she flutters past,
Like some unknown lost sister, found at last
Beyond the locked gate of a silent wall.

Had she been loved as I was loved, and died?
(Once in his arms I thought my heart would break!)
Could she not bear the kisses that I bore?

And does her lover mourn his nameless bride?
Was shame too heavy for her first love's sake?
“A girl is dead,” they told us,—and no more.
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.