The Day in December
Committed poem about pain by knud_knudsen
The day in December The day breaks that I curse so much
, in misty haze I wander as if out of my mind,
I still saw her in blooming white linen,
full of pain I end the search.
Once more I wanted to kiss her,
how beautiful the dream of familiar childhood days,
how waxen she lay on this stretcher,
why did she have to go?
She often sang me the round dance at night with the guitar,
her voice gentle, yes cosmically far away, many thousand violins
sounded within me.
Then she left, on that one day, the air was cold and Christmas so near, I am frozen in deep, silent mourning.
