A Dirge For Minette Poem by Gert Strydom

I

Silently, silently the new morning awakes
and your hands are crossed over your breast
while you go to the eternal rest,
and deeply, deeply my heart aches.


II

Colourful new flowers are flowering,
with insects buzzing, birds with songs to sing
while I miss you
during this early spring.

III

Blue as your eyes the sky
is stretching, open and clear
while in it multitudes of birds fly
and I wish that you were here.

IV

Far too fleetingly you were with me
and this remains the earthly thing,
where no one is free
from death and the way that it stings.

V

In the early morning breeze at you grave
my words are fluttering here and there, fluttering
while in sorrow they rave
and even the willows are crying.