In a village overlooking the sea,
so beautiful and so serene,
with fine cottages and finer folk,
there is,as in any other place,
A Memorial Park housing the dead and beloved.

I stand in a corner of the Yard,
upon my plinth frozen forever.
I,the stony likeness of a fairy
long gone and forgotten;
A cold guardian of the cold beds.

Like to a fair girl with sweet smile I am
tender hands clasped gently,
resting against my flowing silver dress.
A blue bow adorns my tresses,
A pair of graceful wings,my frame.

Many a person I saw buried here
and many a eulogy I've heard.
Many regrets and tears.
Cries of loneliness and fear.
Year after year after year.

At my feet lie two graves,
Of a man and of his wife.
Young they departed life,
Parted from their darling child,
giving her their memories to live by.

The girl used to sit on the turf
beside their tombs
gazing out over the sea at the sunset,
Me keeping her company
and the Wind wiping her tears.

Every day of every season
she used to come and see them.
To sit by them and talk to them.
To tell them everything in her life.
And I used to listen to her.

I listened to her speak of her friends.
Of their many mischiefs
and adventures in the village,
of their jokes and laughs.
And I used to laugh with her.

She spoke to them of her being alone
amidst all these joys.
Of her fears and toils.
Her wish to have them both back.
And I used to pity her.

New graves were dug,
New tenants came,
And new tombs were built.
Still the girl came
Never missing a day.

She talked to me,the only thing there
with a semblance of life.
"Oh,you are so beautiful!"
she used to tell me,
And I wanted to tell her the same.

"If only I'd wings like yours",she said,
"I would fly over the fields
gliding lightly over the grass.
I would fly above the trees,
chasing the happy birds.

I'd race the dolphins in the sea,
Skim over the fluffy clouds in the sky,
Touch the stars in the night
And reach my parents in the Light.
And I would be free."

The cemetery knew no familiar voice but hers.
The path,no familiar step but hers.
She used to walk among the tombs,
laying wreaths upon those forgotten
And praying for those who forgot them.

She used to say to me,
"How sad it is for them
Who are forgotten and have
None to remember them
And nothing to be remembered by!"

Then came a day when I didn't see her.
And another day went by.
Now I see a grave being dug
By the side of her parents' and I knew,
That she has gotten her wings at last.

I see them carrying her hither,
No faithful friend to weep for her.
No heart breaking to see her
go in her death to where
she used to be in life.

If only I had tears,
I would have shed them.
Shed them for all her pain.
For all the fears she went through.
For all the loneliness she had to endure.

If only my heart weren't frozen,
I would have wanted it to beat,
To feel heavy with sorrow.
For her,I want to come to life,
If only to lament her death and freeze again.

They fill her grave with dirt.
They build a tomb on it and leave.
No wreaths wasted upon it..
No wreaths will there be.
No familiar voice or step.

New graves are dug,
New tenants have come,
And new tombs are built.
Still I stand here over her's...
It is not sad,for I will remember her.