Alone In the Ruins of a Chapel

Note: Norwegians are proud of many things, but above all, they are endlessly proud of Sissel Kyrkjebø, the Voice of Norway! International singer. ______________________________________________________________ I live in a deserted chapel, Buffeted and corroded by harsh winds, And yet to me it is a godsend haven Away from hazards of fellow men. Dry from incessant downpours But cold and damp and forlorn, I rest in a forsaken sheltered corner, As my thoughts linger on you. For I can never forget you Though you prefer me no more. Instinctively I rise from my sad corner Hobble towards the broken altar, There I light a candle small In loving memory of you. Its feeble light shines wanly A lonely shadow it throws Down to the depth of my isolated soul, A little faint flame of hope. Soon a turbulent wind violently Blows its way across the plain. Like a horde of evil demons Sweeping all that's in its way, The candlelight is snuffed off At least for this desolate night. Is love so fickle that It can be stifled so quickly? Is love so petty and trivial That it's comparable to a candle wick? But such a light can be renewed, The wax ignites into life once more. So let the gusty winds blow For I know deep within me, My love will never be stifled That I should lose all hope.