Afton Water
By Robert Burns
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise;

My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds thro' the glen,
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,
Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear,
I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair.
How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,
Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills;
There daily I wander as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.
How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,
Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow;

There oft, as mild Ev'ning sweeps over the lea,
The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides,
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,
As gathering sweet flowrets she stems thy clear wave.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;

My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
The Sonnets to Orpheus 
By Rainer Maria Rilke
Sonnet 24 - Book II
Mirrors! - Who has ever known you,
Described you? Entered into your very
Being? Holes which appear in time, are filled-in,
Like clear pores of a sieve.
You, squanderers of empty drawing-rooms,
In the dusk broad as the great forests ...
And when the lustre shoots like a stag’s antlers
Down through ways untrodden inside you.
Sometimes you engulf paintings, -
Are stuffed with them, -
Then some are timorously despatched, go past.
But the most beautiful shall remain within you,
Held there till pure Narcissus is unbound and penetrates
Down to a visage comprised in you.
Grief and Regret 
By Simona De Leo 
What does someone leave when Death comes
to knock at the door?
Sadness. Emptiness. Confusion. Grief.

To me, Grief looked like an empty white room
with a cold light.
So cold and bright that your eyes cannot actually
open and see around.
Then, when I finally saw a door,
I opened it and I found Regret.

The Regret of things not done.
Of words not said.
I learnt to walk again but on the same road of
Grief and Regret,
I learnt to take their hands rather than fight against them.
And so, they started to help me, they taught me to speak my feelings, to hug more often.
It keeps hurting, I confessed to them sometimes.
I begged them to leave me alone and there were days when they did but only to find them at night in my dreams.

Grief came to visit my dreams very often in the last week.
He likes this little game when I dream my mum, our garden, the flowers, the sun and then He comes, she dies, night after night.
I wake up, and Grief is laying down next to me.

Today, Grief came again and told me my mum will be less alone now,
her sister just left us.
Once more, Grief and I are sitting face to face and make the point of life.
Because that's what Grief and Death do.
They make you stop and look at everything and everyone
with other eyes.

And so, when Death comes to knock at the door,
feel sad. Empty. Confused. But feel also love.
Love for the person who is gone and love for the people who are alive.

Love them, forgive them, hug them.
This is what Grief and Regret taught me
and now I wish to teach you.

You may also like

Back to Top