I sought the meadow for its grace
a chapel in a wooded glen
the quiet spirit of the place
protected me from grief within
but grief is never far away
for life is frail and breath is weak
I would return another day
to garner all that I might seek
still here today I did behold
a single rose upon a grave
a story that has grown too old
for one who died so young and brave
the rose was freshly laid today
the soldier's grave was far from new
the widow's hair had turned to gray
her tears comingled with the dew
and yet I sensed she was at peace
as time was drifting on the wind
and soon her grief would find release
when she would hold him once again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem