June 23rd, 2009
|04:00 pm - A disproportionate number of good poems seem to be about death|
On a website reading Rossetti's poem "Song":
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
Nor shady cypress tree:
Be the green grass above me
With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
And if thou wilt, forget.
I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
Sing on, as if in pain:
And dreaming through the twilight
That doth not rise nor set,
Haply I may remember,
And haply may forget.
The captcha for posting comments? "Obituary caress".
Current Location: ATL
Current Mood: hungry
Current Music: CSI in the background
There is a beautiful, touching theme to this. With the departed urging their surviving loved ones to honor them and enjoy life, rather than being depressed and ignoring what they still have to enjoy.
Yet I look at this, remember your message from facebook, and am given pause. Am I overthinking?
Btw, your 'hungry' icon makes me giggle every time I see it.