The afternoon was chilly cold
When I made up my mine to stroll.
But where can one's thoughts smoothly flay
Than at the cemetery on a cold day.
And there I was well destined
Jumping o'er the praying grasses woven
Across the cemetery's path-
soon there I was haven't had a bath.
Then I stood at my sweet mum's grave
where I sighed and calmly wept.
Oh sweet mother who is gone to the conclave
Where all the souls are kept.
HEREIN LIE THE BONES OF BIH EMILIE
WHO ALWAYS BEFORE HER DEATH
SANG TO THE GLORY OF GOD
REST IN PEACE.
And I wept as I read
For sweet mum is gone and all is red.
And why do i weep when death is inevitable?
Well because she left me so soon
and I never enjoyed her warmth.
She to me was the best of mothers
And top all the best of companions.
But she was gone, forever,
Making me develop today this fever.