In silence stealthily she came,
And sat near her husband's grave,
In a martyr's graveyard on the bank of the Veth,
She looked at the tombstone but did not scream,
She was looking at her slain husband's face,
In moonshine, she smiled and enjoyed his wan beauty,
She pensively gazed at the slow flowing river,
Heard the music of the mourning river,
Drowned in the stillness of the dead valley,
She was silent as if an ice sculpture,
She prayed in silence for her dead husband,
She loved him intensely in silence,
Even though he was not here.
Mykoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem