The angels fetched me
in a frozen night;
my lips were chapped,
the lights were busted!
Such was untimely;
flowers were scarce
to shower my tomb
when I'd be laid to rest.
The angels fetched me
in a sad, sad night~
my palms were cold,
and my lover's asleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
idea behind this is so splendid - Mel - you own the elusive quality. ~sjg