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Once she had drowned and started her slow descent |
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Down the streams to where the great rivers broaden |
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Oh, the open sky chant most magnificent |
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As if it was acting as her body's guardian |
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Wreck and duck weed slowly increased her weight |
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By clasping her in their slimy grip |
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Through her limbs, the cold blooded fishes played |
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Creatures and plant life kept on, thus obstructing her last trip |
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And the sky that same evening, grew dark as smoke |
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And its stars through the night, kept the brightness still soaring |
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But it quickly grew clear when dawn now broke |
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To see that she got one further morning |
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Once her pallid trunk had rotted beyond repair |
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It happened quite slowly that she gently slipped from |
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God's thoughts |
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First with her face, then her hands, right at the last with her hair |
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Leaving those corpse-choked rivers just one more corpse |
