Our love was an ivory boon,
Which reigned with the angels in the night.
We would kiss beneath the moon,
Among the statues in the light.
But your death arrived too soon,
And so soared our felicity out of sight,
Which was once so gold, which was once so bright.

Now all that I can ponder,
All that I can see,
Is your fair face over yonder,
In a court of majesty,
Surrounded by slender, radiant fountains,
Where in a haze, you dream,
In the square beyond the mountains,
Lazing by a falling stream.

John Lars Zwerenz