The Beheading Of The Violet Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

A violent innocent arose
In the sweet Dawn
That day as all the days
It rose.

But ah! Fate cruel smiled
And wry the smile
Was on his face
Where cruelty one traced.

And Fate itself hid
Behind the trees to see
The violet swing here and there
In its last liberty.

So few the hours were
So quick they passed:
So joy filled the innocent heart
The violet that day!

Till a boy came: a boy
Symbol of innocence!
His eyes upon the violet
Fell; his hands he thrust
And on the poor violet
Roughly them he cast.

On her head the murderous hands
Fell; a numbing fall
From consciousness; a coma;
Then her head fell
A trophy to a boy
Who threw it away

Ah! broken violet! Broken
Head!
How rolled it gently
And the wind neighed
And the wind mourned
And the sun mourned
And the garden mourned
That fateful day!

And Fate itself had hid
Behind the trees to see
The violet swing here and there
In its last liberty.

Come out tyrant Fate!
The deed is done:
You can smile openly
But no! Fate’s heart
Was struck
With guilt he fled away
And the red dusk
More guilty made him stay.

So, so, my mother,
Like the sweet violet,
You woke that day,
And like the hapless violet
Hapless was the last day
The last day that on Earth
You breathed breath of day.

So, so, as the sun mourned
The wind, the day:
So I my mother mourned
Still mourn
To the end of my days.