"The Unquiet Grave" anonymous (poetry reading)

Death is only nature's way of telling you to slow down a little.

"Death, the most dreaded of evils, is of no concern to us. While we exist death is not present. When death is present we no longer exist". -- Epicurus

The man mourning by the grave is in the Peabody art collection, Maryland. It was painted in around 1830.

Detail of 15th Century painting, Frauenkirche, Nuremberg

Flowers Grave Three Painting - Flowers Grave Three Fine Art Print - Robert James Hacunda
http://fineartamerica.com/featured/flowers-grave-three-robert-james-hacunda.html

State Fair After Dark Fine Art Print - Gwyn Newcombe
http://fineartamerica.com/featured/state-fair-after-dark-gwyn-newcombe.html

Cemetery Angel Fine Art Print - Susanne Van Hulst
http://fineartamerica.com/featured/cemetery-angel-susanne-van-hulst.html

Weeping Statue Fine Art Print - Deborah Smolinske
http://fineartamerica.com/featured/weeping-statue-deborah-smolinske.html


"The wind doth blow today, my love,
And a few small drops of rain;
I never had but one true-love,
In cold grave she was lain.

"I'll do as much for my true-love
As any young man may;
I'll sit and mourn all at her grave
For a twelvemonth and a day."

The twelvemonth and a day being up,
The dead began to speak:
"Oh who sits weeping on my grave,
And will not let me sleep?"

"'T is I, my love, sits on your grave,
And will not let you sleep;
For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,
And that is all I seek."

"You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
But my breath smells earthy strong;
If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,
Your time will not be long.

"'T is down in yonder garden green,
Love, where we used to walk,
The finest flower that e're was seen
Is withered to a stalk.

"The stalk is withered dry, my love,
So will our hearts decay;
So make yourself content, my love,
Till God calls you away."

Category:

Entertainment

Tags:

• Unquiet
• grave
• poem
• poetry
• angel

[aspokenpoetsverse]

A poem doesn't get much better than this!

[fallbread]

well done :)

[wcjones451]

Just a thought, but English was obviously quite different at about 1400. Is this a translation?

[sonofwalt]

Nicely done, friend. Understated loss is in your tone. I like that you read it as one who understands loss, though I wish you hadn't. Thank you for this respectful reading, tempered with humour in the visuals.

[jeremyshambles]

if only the last bit about "god" was changed or replaced with a different sentiment I feel the poem would have been very near perfect. still a tremendously enrapturing unification of words to be sure, vielen dank

[MsGermanriesling]

@polymath7 That was so beautiful. Thanks for sharing it.

[franielee38]

Beautifully sad and greatly read!!

[scifiwritir1]

Wow!!!! I haven't heard your voice in ages. Missed it. Great poem. Thanks so much for this lovely poem. I wonder if this has been turned into a song. It feels like a Child's ballad.

[Naked4Jesus]

Dark and lovely! The first time I've heard this one. Shame it's anonymous, I'd of liked to read more from its author.

[polymath7]

TREAD lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow. All her bright golden hair Tarnished with rust, She that was young and fair Fallen to dust. Lily-like, white as snow, She hardly knew She was a woman, so Sweetly she grew. Coffin-board, heavy stone, Lie on her breast, I vex my heart alone She is at rest. Peace, Peace, she cannot hear Lyre or sonnet, All my life's buried here, Heap earth upon it. AVIGNON.