Saturday, November 28, 2009

grief poem. Tuesday Nov 24, 2009, 10:34am. 2 weeks 3 days.

Every morning I go about mourning
And my tears begin afresh
My wound opens as I remember
And I groan in my deep sorrow
Break all your weights and measures
Break all your instruments
For you cannot measure my grief.
My sorrow cannot be measured,
It would break all your paltry instruments.
My tears could fill up the sea,
And they would not be finished.
The light of my eyes and the joy of my heart,
He was taken from me
I shall not see him again while I live
My love does not mourn now; he is happy
In a place where no mourning is
In the light of eternal morning
Of the Orient from on high
But for me there is only great sorrow
That will bleed yet afresh come the morrow

Had I known! Had I known this could happen
I would never have left your side
I would have been like a mother hen
Would have hemmed you in from every side--
I would never have ceased looking after you
But I thought you were strong, I was weak--
But now you are gone, I remain.
No one on earth can tell me why;
No one on earth can explain.

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