I saw you ‘midst the flowers,
An angel manifest.
The winds delivered your scent;
Sweet,
As the lilacs upon your hair.
I wish we could meet, maiden
O’ the valley;
But my fate’s foretold by
Stars, an’ of them no mortal
Man is ever free, never un-tethered
From the bondage of Destiny.
The rain, life-giver, doth bless
Me, mingling with the tears;
Bitter-sweet, the taste of salty
Regret an’ of chance, slipped
Away.
How fettered man is, joyously
Heaving Heavens upon his back,
Never seeking reward, nor respite;
Content with his burden, he makes
Himself the sufferer, an’ yet
Seems as a victor, bending, but
Breaking not.
If I were such a man perhaps I,
Too, could carry this burden of
Love, unrequited; but alas! I am
A meek, soft flower, bent; the
Weight of my petals, almost too
Burdensome.
So I stand, in silence,
An’ watch you pick my brethren;
Carrying them in your arms, placing
Them against your bosom, Life,
As they suckle on your teat; drinking
The sweet dew, they are invigorated,
And grow to be elegant an’ beautiful,
Proudly flexing their leaves in the Sun.
But I, dearest maiden, am but a forlorn
Flower, nay, a weed, castaway, whom it
Is to bear the burdens of Fate, alone an’
In fear. Where is the Sun, whose rays,
Exuberant, animate the corpses, revive the
Dead? May it shine upon me; if only for a
Moment, may I, as others, taste the joys of
Life, without fear, growing in the light of day!
Or is it mine, and mine alone, to dwell the
Nightly streets, in tattered uniform, forever lost?