The moon casts a strange shadow upon your face this eve
Your eyes look weary of days long and full of sorrow
But it is in a distance I can see your figure still and unmoving
As if from the grave you came forth to see me now.
Be not so still that I cannot see your loving form move closer
It is with despair I look upon the terrifying sight
As if a premonition of the future had opened my eyes
I see you now in ghostly shape on this beautiful autumn night.
Hold back these tears! A torture for my own folly
To have warped this beautiful moment into a vision of anguish
I can hardly hear thy sweet voice whisper to me,
Over the sound of shovels against cold clay.
Hold me back from trembling, my emotions so intense
I feel my body wither as if an evening primrose
Exposed to the intense light of bitter truth
Feeling as if forever hangs a veil between us.
My heart reaches for your touch, a fingertip apart
But my body cannot respond to the shock endured
Glad to see your figure finally moving
I shake the thought away, and think of it no more.