Tears for my lady dead,
Heliodore
Salt tears, and strange to shed,
Over and o'er,
Tears to my lady dead,
Love do we send,
Longed for, remembered,
Lover and friend!
Sad are the songs we sing,
Tears that we shed,
Empty the gifts we bring,
Gifts to the dead!
Go, tears, and go lament,
Far from her tomb,
Wend, where my lady went,
Down through the gloom,
Ah! for my flower, my love,
Hades has taken,
Ah! for the dust above,
Scattered and shaken,
Mother of blade and grass,
Earth, in thy breast,
Lull her, that gentlest was,
Gently to rest!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This was not written by me, but was attributed to Andrew Lang, for which I can find no published record, among his 109 poems, and is dated December 15 1895, and signed off by Rosslyn Bruce.