<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=393349" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Nadowessian Death-Lament</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">See, he sitteth on his mat<br> Sitteth there upright,<br>With the grace with which he sat<br> While he saw the light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where is now the sturdy gripe,--<br> Where the breath sedate,<br>That so lately whiffed the pipe<br> Toward the Spirit great?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where the bright and falcon eye,<br> That the reindeer's tread<br>On the waving grass could spy,<br> Thick with dewdrops spread?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where the limbs that used to dart<br> Swifter through the snow<br>Than the twenty-membered hart,<br> Than the mountain roe?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where the arm that sturdily<br> Bent the deadly bow?<br>See, its life hath fleeted by,--<br> See, it hangeth low!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Happy he!--He now has gone<br> Where no snow is found:<br>Where with maize the fields are sown,<br> Self-sprung from the ground;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where with birds each bush is filled,<br>Where with game the wood;<br>Where the fish, with joy unstilled,<br>Wanton in the flood.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With the spirits blest he feeds,--<br> Leaves us here in gloom;<br>We can only praise his deeds,<br> And his corpse entomb.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell-gifts, then, hither bring,<br> Sound the death-note sad!<br>Bury with him everything<br> That can make him glad!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Neath his head the hatchet hide<br> That he boldly swung;<br>And the bear's fat haunch beside,<br> For the road is long;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the knife, well sharpened,<br> That, with slashes three,<br>Scalp and skin from foeman's head<br> Tore off skilfully.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And to paint his body, place<br> Dyes within his hand;<br>Let him shine with ruddy grace<br> In the Spirit-land!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Friedrich+Schiller">Friedrich Schiller</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=393349" data-title="Nadowessian Death-Lament de Friedrich Schiller" data-description="See, he sitteth on his mat Sitteth there upright, With the grace with which he sat While he saw the light. Where is now the sturdy gripe,-- Where the breath sedate, That so lately whiffed the pipe Toward the Spirit great? Where the bright an..."></div> </div> </div>

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