Thursday, February 26, 2009

When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
- Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Blogger Churlita said...

You've been posting a lot about death lately. Is there a reason for the theme?

10:37 AM  
Blogger willow said...

Hope all is well with you and yours. It's been a somber week over here.

5:38 PM  
Blogger Remiman said...

Churlita and Willow,
All is quite well over here. In fact things are better than well; good reason for celebration from our youngest.

I'm working on a piece for which I've been setting the mood and baiting the muse, titled:
I'm dead.

Thanks for your concern! ;-)

7:33 PM  
Blogger Kay said...

Rossetti is a favourite of mine. Thank you!

7:54 PM  
Blogger paisley said...

can't hep but wonder what is up with the recent cemetery fascination......

8:02 AM  
Blogger JP/deb said...

beautiful pairing of image and poetry ... death is life and vice versa. peace & love, JP/deb

1:52 AM  

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