Upon an Autumn's breezy night
I beheld an awful sight
For two days of our wedding nigh
I beheld my lover die
‘Twas I who was sent that lowly night
To fetch drink in the pale moonlight
I readied my steed, and dashed we on
To gather water from the pond
Over the hills and along the trail
I rode to hear the ghastly wail
My blood ran cold and heart would fall
When I realized it was my maiden's call
I darted up the lofty hill
To save the scene and cease the kill
But I arrived only for strife
Accompanied by such a knife
The stab wound of my madam's breast
Made for Death a tale of jest
And damn the killer! He escaped
When in his eyes my figure shaped
I reached her body still and bare
Knelt and spoke a mournful prayer
Returned the corpse to her folks
With tears their saddened faces soaked
A solemn service soon took place
Remembering her - her kindness and grace
And after the clang of the final bell
We headed home to build a well
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem