Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.
PartingFlorence Randal Livesay, trans.
I
Then make for me, my love, a coffin of cedar.
Thou must lie, Mila, O my dear, in one made of fir.
Plant by my head a little creeping berry.
As thou walkest through the cherry orchard—
The one who parts us walking with thee—
Thou shalt summon me from my grave:
See thy cattle wandering through the wide world!”
They shall nevermore see the mistress they knew.”
Thy children already are scattered and gone to work.”
Their mother indeed and indeed they shall never see.”
For thee thy youngest child cries, for thee she weeps.”
Whosoever once dies, does not rise from the grave.”
Lo, the flower I planted has bloomed at thy head!”
Whosoever once dies—lo, she rests in the grave.”