Dusk begins to fall
She lies under the dark shrouds
Fair maiden's pale skin
Soft and white as silken cloth
She passed to darkness
My fair maiden, never loved
Her so gentle face
Peaceful, relaxed, and graceful
She had lived and died
Innocence never taken
Fair maiden's short life
With no joyous shouts or cries.
The silent grave waits.
Oft I have wept for her death.
She had once loved me.
My angel, fallen to earth.
My maidens soft death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem