I laid down o'er yo'r sod last night,
long aft' th' keeper's, beckoned me
to hold my psalm 'til mornin' next,
'fore th' shadow ghosts of ev'nintide
bid th' etched gray stones goodnite.
Time...ne'er rolls a fair toss of th'dice;
yearn it to dawdle 'pon yo'r lifeline,
yearn it to bestir th' nights....fleetly.
Dreamin', steals reality fr'm o'er ye, '
Morning slaps a labored breath cold n' hard.
I take me down....to th' valley floral,
lay down th' cost...for o' single stem;
penurious florist wants mor' for dye
I say: can ya roll me a fair toss o'dice.
'e nods, 'n hands o'er th' Black Rose.
I'll place my heart o'er yo'r sod tonite,
tho' time ne'er rolls a fair toss o'dice.
Dreamin', steals reality from o'er ye',
Morning slaps a bre'th, cold n' hard;
I com' a long way fr'm Dublin Town-
to lay this Black Rose o'er yo'r stead.
A dubh ardaigh do tú ó dom...
© 2018-All rights reserved
Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjR
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem