May Morning
The May morning shimmered,
She sat silent and pale,
Her sweet eyes glimmered,
And slowly became moist.
Shadows of pain darkened
Her white features,
And large tears glittered
Like dew in the sunlight.
A butterfly gawked
At the sad, silent couple,
And fluttered
In her blonde hair.
His look; gloomy thoughts,
Sucked away her charm.
The hour, that trickled away,
Gave them pain, after pain.
They remained silent; each suffering,
In equally bitter torment.
So the two sat separately,
United for one last time.
-Mia Holm
translated by Joe Bandel
Anarchistbanjo's World 
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