In black she is dressed,
With veiled crape down to the ground,
And sad and knelt
On the edge of a tomb…
Thou, to whom a nation bowed
And sat before Thee silent, bent,
Oh, my glorious beloved Queen,
To whom Thou knelt before Thy knee?
Thou, who from Thine height
Subdue a world with just a word,
The pain of Death with cruelty
Leaned Thy forehead to the ground…
And in place of the royal robe
It put a black veil of mourning,
And above Thy happiness
A white and sad, eternal shroud.
And without any consolation,
In your painful last impetus,
Thou seem a watching Angel
On a tomb’s coldest slab…
Șoapte...
Tags: death, inner demons, memories, regrets