The birds have flown
They hear the weeping
They know the grief
When rain is waking up
Only you really know
Where the thorns do burn
In hollow heart
How the heart is in distress
I touched the burden
Grinding me the pain, surely did
Grief was in the silver-mirrors of your heart
I caressed it
I suffered too
Death cut you into marrow and bone
The bleeding was unending
Distant is the blackest veil
Yet it surely touched
Where the pain is great
Piteous heart sore diseased
Woeful pain please be eased
Never again a heavenly bliss
As midsummers flowers you longed to kiss
Your pain is mine |
