On the dying bed
lay her only son
breathing his last
battling with life
while she, old hag
stood helpless
now praying,
now cursing her destiny
when all at once
without a word
her only child lay dead.
She clasped his head
against her breast
unbelieving what she saw
while waves of thought
rushed through her mind
one thought she knew was clear -
and that, the universal theme
I will not let you go!
I will not let you go, cries the tree
as leaves fall off
in autumnal weather.
I will not let you go, cries time
to every passing day and night
I will not let you go, cries Age
to every passing phase in time.
I will not let you go, cries the mother
because I love you so.
And so she mourns
yet still they pass
unheeded by her cry -
for who has ever had the power
to disown the hands of death?
