Post Coitum


The jubilee is over
And every creature sad.
‘O triste!’ thinks the lover,
‘But O what joy I had!

‘The midnight constellations
Shine coldly on my grief;
Keeping their constant stations,
They mock a joy so brief.

‘But they, the sole rejoicers,
The woman and the cock,
Raise their triumphant voices
And me as well they mock.

‘O triste, triste, triste!
Why does the earth stand still
When dawn hangs chill and misty
Upon the eastern hill?

‘But see, the sun brims over
And cheerily he grins:
“Take heart! For the spent lover
Another day begins.

‘ “Look back, my boy: dejection
Makes you an easy prey;
But think of resurrection;
Look forward to the day.”

‘Then cheerful on my pillow
I wait for you below,
For you, my noble fellow,
To raise your head and crow.’

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