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