Rosey, in the light of dusk
And searing freely around the rigging
Feels like something's on the cusp,
Something marvelous just beginning.
Now I'm stood upon the sodden soil,
And I'm toiling over this hole I'm digging
Should I knock it downright dead,
Or quietly bury it while it's still living?
Fractured, black, my poor heart was struggling
Wept all over it and rusted the casket shut
Then solemnly, to the cemetary to lay it underground
No song, nor psalm, no serman, no sound
And who is it who through his cowardice
Has sickened and withered it?
My lover; brother confidant and friend
Don't hesitate, don't slacken pace,
And never look over your shoulder.
I will follow on as planned,
And we will meet again before I am much older.