Maléna

Brown tears of muddy ochre, to spill my pain so wretched,

To drip and stain my snowy dress, to mingle death intentioned.

Black hair of dark midnight, hacked off with blunted steel,

To leave me mourn still more, and wish I could not feel.

--

But still there flows the ruby, its crimson colour finding,

And dripping it too stains, the purity of my binding;

Slashing pain of fettered whips to highlight pain I want to fade,

Creating colours cold and done, marring snowy white in shade.

--

And blue eyes do cease their wonder, as calmness takes an owning hold,

And finally I whisper light, as death’s sweet arms now me enfold.