Gloomy Sunday Poem by gershon hepner

GLOOMY SUNDAY TO THE WORST DAY OF THE WEEK

Without you every Sunday’s full of gloom,
and so is Monday when you are not there.
Tuesday’s like a day within a tomb,
and Wednesdays, when I’m forced to wonder where
you are become like Sundays, Mondays and
the Tuesdays when I cannot hold your hand.
Thursdays always are depressing while
I’m thinking of you and I miss your smile.
Fridays are no better, Saturday
the worst day of the week when you’re away.

Without you every Sunday’s full of gloom.
Am I incorrect if I assume
if it’s the same for you throughout the week
when we alone for one another seek?

Gloomy Sunday was written by the Hungarian self-taught pianist and composer Rezső Seress in 1933 and the theme song of a great movie by that name which I saw about five years ago.


Sunday is Gloomy,
My hours are slumberless,
Dearest, the shadows I live with are numberless
Little white flowers will never awaken you

Not where the black coach of sorrow has taken you
Angels have no thought of ever returning you
Would they be angry if I thought of joining you
Gloomy Sunday

Sunday is gloomy
with shadows I spend it all
My heart and I have decided to end it all
Soon there'll be flowers and prayers that are sad,
I know, let them not weep,
Let them know that I'm glad to go

Death is no dream,
For in death I'm caressing you
With the last breath of my soul I'll be blessing you
Gloomy Sunday

Dreaming
I was only dreaming
I wake and I find you
Asleep in the deep of
My heart



1/19/10