Five crow-clergy in their black vestments
were gathered in the cemetery in solemn assembly
around a few of the upright stones
whose etched words were nearly obliterated
by two centuries of weather-wear.
The sharpest-eyed monsignor among them,
a particularly large and dignified fellow,
took notice of my abrupt arrival
and, after studying me with grave reflection,
began to preach in a loud and rasping voice:
Ah! Ah! Poor mortal there!
Walking abroad in weather fair!
Treading on graves without a care!
Such a pity! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Know you not the morbid truth
that soon in such a grave forsooth,
your frame will dissolve to bone and tooth?
Such a pity! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Like leaves upon the autumn wind,
life hurries soon to its certain end!
But few who die have lived, my friend!
Such a pity! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Eternity awaits each departed leaf
and whether to joy or to bitter grief,
scant good is done in a life so brief!
Such a pity! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Then the homilist and his four companions,
heaving their immense black wings,
ascended from the graveside
together repeating a parting refrain:
Farewell and take heed! Ah! Ah! Ah!
No comments:
Post a Comment