<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413254" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>When all my youth in years be</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When all my youth in years be<br>Fallen at length<br>And you see me<br>Lying trunk and bough naked strength<br>No longer mourn for me when I am dead<br>You shall hear then the solid sullen bell<br>Announcing to the world that I have fled<br>From this vile world, with the vilest worms of earth to dwell</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When on your bed the spangled moonlight falls<br>You know that in my place of rest<br>By a running rivulet where a bird keeps her brood and nests<br>There comes a divine glory to the cemetery walls</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My marble tomb bright in dark sheen appears<br>As slowly steals a silver flame<br>In a sway of lights and shades game <br>Along the letters of my name<br>Inscribing the humble living of my fame<br>And over the number of my years</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A soiled vase bares flowers wane and wilted<br>And stones around with salt of tears are gilded <br>My soul in its clay cold bed lay forsaken<br>In the place where I sleep and never to be waken</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The daunting haunting piercing owl’s cry<br>Shall burst upon my slumbering ears<br>Not a single seraph hovers in the sky<br>While I lay wrapped in my shroud of fear </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The mystic sliver swims away<br>From off your bed the moonlight dies<br>And closing eaves of wearied eyes<br>You sleep till dawn arises dipped in grey</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As time claims its bounty my friends become scarce<br>And the letters of my name will fade into less<br>With blackest moss the letter-plots<br>Will be thickly crusted one and all<br>Over grown weeds with blades tall<br>Claim my grave with girded entangled knots<br>As the splendor falls in the cemetery wall</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They say every soul has a star<br>That glimmers and flickers through channeled wind far<br>Till it fades and fails and die<br>So the soul converges to its archetype in the sky<br>Yet no angle clad in light by golden heaven gated<br>None which clad in light my spirit waited<br>To embrace me into the divine eternal sky<br>Here below the yellow autumn leaves I lie</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who would have thought that thus<br>To be thrown under the dust<br>He who had man under what pretensions and why <br>He made him think he was not make to die</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Spirits of the dead haunt every day’s last hours<br>Roaming amid these yellowing bowers<br>At eventide they dance in macabre lock<br>Mocking the sobs and sighs of mourners in shock</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At times kind rains their vital moisture yield<br>And swell the flowers beds and the harvest of the fields<br>The river at the cemetery hill strengthen along<br>And bides his willows to listen to the shepherds’ song<br>And the sun raises her energy for the trees to have<br>As the shepherds lead their flocks around my grave<br>They sing while besides the shaded tomb you mourn<br>And the sumptuous squirrels your stature shrine adorn </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The kindest words are said yet now useless grown<br>Kind words inscribed on the fading relenting stones<br>In the mute world of under we scream to heaven and to earth we deplore<br>For we are dead and love no more<br>The silver swans take rest our hapless fate to bemoan<br>In notes more sad than when they sing their own </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I always hated the dreadful cemetery behind the little wood with old trees wrought<br>Where funerals were led in the field above through harsh dry heath<br>The hills around it were horror stricken and I was a little boy distraught<br>watching the echo there whatever I asked her answer was: 'Death' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Were you there the day I was put down to the pit? Was there love in the passionate shriek<br>Love for the silent thing wrapt in shroud that made false hast to his grave<br>Covered with a cloak, as you saw me and thought that I would rise and last speak<br>And rant and rave at the world and at God as I always rave</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You saw the hands tightly intertwined<br>Pale palm against pale palm laid<br>Bereft of any living movement they consigned<br>What the frozen lips left unsaid</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The days at the cemetery <br>Are anguish and weary<br>But would you keep yourself aloof<br>Nor wander once into the cemetery ways<br>I lie here not lacking your harsh reproof<br>Yet missing the golden largess of your praise</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When in the darkness over me<br>The blind four handed mole shall scrap<br>Under the dark lush bush tree<br>And the visitors wreath their heads with doleful crape<br>But you? When you come pledge me the vinery grape </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now here approach shake hands across the brink<br>Of that deep grave where I was thrown<br>Shake hands once more; I cannot sink<br>So far – far down but you shall be known<br>By me in your voice and I will reply from below and the birds shall sing</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As the moon’s splendor falls<br>Along the grass in the cemetery walls<br>Come back and take hold of me<br>A sensation that I long and love<br>Come back and take hold of me<br>When body’s memory awakened<br>And old longing again moves into the bloodless veins<br>When lips and skin stir and remember<br>And hands feel as if though they touch again</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let Time sooth you and your scares heal<br>As on my clay bed his twiggy weeds grow<br>Come when you feel but only when the days are still<br>And at my headstone bow and whisper low<br>And tell of yourself that I should know</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The damn dawn down over my grave fly away! <br>As East and West without a soul with suffocating breath<br>Mixed their lights like life and death<br>To broaden into a boundless day </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when you read these lines remember not<br>The hand that wrote it but he who loved you namelessly<br>And yet named his love to you sublimely in a knot <br>Out of whispering tongues which foul pure love carelessly<br>I would rather in your sweet thoughts be forgot if so<br>Thinking of me should make you woe</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Even if by chance you look upon this verse<br>When compounded I lie with mortar and clay<br>Does not so much as my poor name rehearse<br>But let your love even with my life decay<br>Unless you bare your sorrow unnoticed, a nameless moan<br>Lest the world around mock you and me after I am gone</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Isaac+Ziv">Isaac Ziv</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=413254" data-title="When all my youth in years be de Isaac Ziv" data-description="When all my youth in years be/Fallen at length/And you see me/Lying trunk and bough naked strength/No longer mourn for me when I am dead/You shall hear then the solid sullen bell/Announcing to the world that I have fled/From this vile world, with ..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black