CONFESSIONS OF A YOUNG BRIDE

The corpse-cold moon is staring below

Thinking

“Why is the maiden so sad

When she’s wearing a bridal gown?”

“O’ moon! You do not know,

But this is a heart, lonely and poor

And no bridal gown can make it glad,

When it is winter inside.”

The bride stands here, in front of a mirror

With kohl in her eyes

And blossoms in hand,

Thinking

“Is he the one I really loved?”

“No!” says her eyes,

“He’s not my love.”

“O’ Moon! How can I be at peace

When I’ll be someone’s I do not love?”

“My heart is bleeding

And he’s not here to wipe the blood”

“My eyes are wet

And he’s not here to kiss them with love.”

“Every drop of my tear goes in vain

And each drop of my blood dries up,

Keeping only the stain.”

“My frozen soul is dying…”

“O’ moon! I’m married to the man I’ve never loved!”