Our Last Sad Farewell

Our Last Sad Farewell
© Surazeus
2026 01 01

There was no time for our last sad farewell, 
Martha whispers to the time-wilted tree 
as she kneels on frozen mud in bare field 
near the wheel-worn road past abandoned farm, 
and shivers in tattered dress of her youth 
though the sun is small and green in gray clouds. 

If I tell you I love you with pure light 
while time is flowing swift as valley streams 
I fear our love would change and dissipate, 
then everything would flow away with it, 
and vanish into nothingness of fate, 
so I try to stop time to express love. 

Gray wisps of hair tangled by winter wind 
veil her wrinkled face with wordless pain 
as withered hands press against frozen mud 
where she buried him thirty years before, 
and wonders if he knows she is still here, 
aching with desire to see his lost face. 

Ghosts of young lovers dance around old woman, 
her younger self and man she madly loves, 
on warm spring evening thirty years before 
when they embraced and laughed with careless joy 
from calm confidence they would be together 
forever in paradise of their hearts. 

I never thought our time of joyful love 
would be short as three seasons of wild spring 
before that gang of thieves stabbed you with spears 
for defending our fruit grove with brave faith, 
nor that I would survive your sudden death 
more than thirty years of persistent hope. 

My skin, once clean as ripe rain-nourished apples, 
is wrinkled now as stiff hoof-trampled mud, 
but you are still young in my memories, 
eyes sparkling with mischievous energy 
as he crept up behind me with sly plan 
to steal another kiss with tender care. 

Inhaling bitter wind with resigned faith, 
Martha slowly stands on frail trembling legs 
and trudges from grave of her youthful love 
toward crumbling shack where she still lives alone, 
but stops halfway to vain eternity 
when gang of children call her evil witch. 

Tears freeze on her cheeks as they dance around 
and throw hateful stones that bruise her frail arms, 
and she trembles, battered by their hard kicks, 
when she collapses prone in the barren field, 
and stares at his face in indifferent clouds 
that shroud her broken body with white snow.