The moon rises high in the dark night,
I breathe softly, and stir in my dreams,
I look at the black November clouds,
And walk to the window, sad, alone
I breathe softly, and stir in my dreams
Of my beloved, my life, my soul,
She ought to be with me, but alas!
She left this cruel world and went away
I look at the black November clouds
And remember her charming sweet smile
She touched my loving heart so kindly
I relish her memories each night
And walk to the window, sad, alone
To look at the moon, lonely, yet nice
Aloof in the heaven above, white,
Pristine and yet, oh so romantic!
Author's note: This is a "Lilibonelle", a poetry with four stanzas, where the fresh stanzas begin with the successive lines from the first stanza. All the lines have the same number of syllalbles, here nine.
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