This is how I imagine the things would have been,
A king bereaved and sighing for his queen.
This grandeur in marble is a symbol of grief,
Love so eternal in moments so brief.
He may have ambled in this garden divine,
Or sat on this bench under fading sunshine.
Mourning for his loss, wrapped in his sorrow,
Sighing and denying each gift of tomorrow.
Passion so deep and memories so strong
Soaked in sadness as moments prolong.
I wonder if he ever thought about those
Who tended these meadows and planted this rose,
Who toiled with the weight of boulders in white,
Bent over their chisels in dying twilight.
Their hands kept working without any rest
And finished this filigree in hues perfect.
They raised this pristine structure in stone,
It surely is not the magic of love alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This grandeur in marble is a symbol of grief, Love so eternal in moments so brief. At the end you come to the artisans and the workers who built up this edifice.... i wonder whether he knew the pains and sufferings of those who built......... that is a great reflection..... it is not only love...... it is also hard work.. like this poem and your reflections. tony