The evening sun had gone its way,
And I stood still until its last ray;
Swaddled in veil, I glittered gay,
But no life within, disgust filled my bay.
Soon people gathered, shouldering a coffin,
Brightly varnished, yet a dumb corpse within;
We neither greeted nor shared anything,
They circled round me, and pushed the coffin in.
Howled the wind and rattled my veil,
They set me on fire with the northern gale;
Flames grew up, gulped all without fail,
People around me, gazed and wailed.
White-washed I, soon became grey,
Ashes then remained, but wind took them away;
No one stood still, each turned to his way,
Such is your fate if you’re a tomb, I say.
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