Death’s light glitters like dew
I wished for a summery death.
There was nothing sweeter.
To lie in a gentle shade, and die alone,
Watching distant clouds sailing home.
The ground is hard, but the grass is warm,
Mist runs to dew, and a fairmaid lifts its head,
Softly burning, the white turns red.
Once, I lived to love,
And I loved alone,
But from me those days have flown,
The far-off sleep glistens,
With a chanced-upon glow,
To turn away from the blissful image
Is to scorn newer friends,
Changing newer ends.
Spider-nets encircle my now gossamer-gaze,
To turn away is to break the thread,
When I turn away,
In the meadow
you will find me