Tomorrow, Before Dawn
Tomorrow, before dawn, when the fields turn pale,
I’ll set out. You see, I know you’re waiting for me.
I’ll go through the woods, I’ll cross over hills—
I can no longer bear to be far from thee.
I’ll walk with eyes lost deep in thought,
Not seeing or hearing a thing outside,
Alone, a stranger, arms folded, distraught,
Sorrowful, in a day darker than night.
I will not see the golden fall of dusk,
Nor sails in the distance nearing the shore.
When I arrive, I’ll place upon your grave’s husk
A bouquet of heather and wild ash flowers—nothing more.
