To Rosemary

(Based on 'Schon Rosmarin' by the Austrian-American composer, Fritz Kreisler)

 

Fair as a red rose,

Oh, fair Rosemary!

Thy lips hide one self’s glorious beauty.

 

Eyes like a moon-lit night,

Smiles so melodious,

Who possesses such, than

Fair Rosemary!

 

Walking down the forest path,

Beneath many tall trees,

A ray of sunlight falls on her golden hair,

Making the strands look like a floating treasure!

 

A humble cottage, not very far from the river,

Is where she lives with her mother -

None other than ‘her’ – fair Rosemary!

 

Whenever she is free, she dances,

In the meadow – her feet trampling the fresh green grass.

And she twirls about, her hair floating in the breeze,

With the afternoon Sun and the apple trees as silent spectators.

 

When May came,

She fetched apples from nearby trees,

With the Sun giving light,

Her beauty – fair Rosemary – exceeds!

 

Then, one day, a storm occurred,

She got hit by the wind, making her writhe with pain,

The damage was not so much, but she

got confined to her bed – oh you devil,

Misery!

 

I used to go and see her

Sat beside her in an old wooden chair,

She just smiled while I talked,

The smile never fading – fair Rosemary.

 

Then, one day, in utter joy, I saw,

A white, slim figure whirling in the meadow.

I rushed over there, and in the happy afternoon sunshine, I saw

Rosemary – her golden hair fluttering like butterflies

in the cold air.

 

Now, wherever I lay down to rest

My dreams get haunted by her

Looking through those moon-lit eyes – fair Rosemary!

Fair as a red rose, smiles so melodious,

Dancing in solitude, beneath a tree

of an unknown meadow,

She remains beautiful ever – oh

Fair Rosemary!

***

M.Macabre

06.07.2020

Dedicated to : Fritz Kreisler, R.Escreva (Happy Birthday!)

 Illustration by: Anonymous.