A warm breeze wafted through the canal,
As she stood on the balcony under a Tuscan sun,
Looking upwards at a cloudless sky,
Waiting, for her true love to come home.
It's been nearly two years, and two days,
His presence never graced the marble halls again,
Ever since his body rested in a watery grave,
As death set the clock of destiny.
Every Sunday, she traveled to the southern shore,
And leaned upon the olive trees,
Praying that he would meet her soon,
Right here, where they first met long time ago.
Years went by, but he never came home,
Heartbroken, she went back to the southern shore,
Weeping solemnly, tears mixed with salt water,
Emotions embellished within sorrow.
Death, called to her from under the sea,
It sounded like her husband dearest plea,
For her to join him in holy matrimony,
'Tis became her ultimate destiny.
She flung herself headlong into the waves,
And the salt water enveloped her breath,
Feeling herself at peace once again,
With her lover and dear friend.
A lasting tear became a memory,
Under the Tuscany sun shining bright,
Amongst a field of diamonds, emerald green,
Kindred souls, in the sea of Mediterranean dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so romantic...I might call it gothic.