O, where art thou this morn, my sweet love?
The larks have wakened; they sing for us.
The melodies float across the breeze
Into my empty heart; they fill me-
These songs of love.
I am here in our meadow; not alone.
Insects flit to and fro in the lea.
Colorful butterflies; grasshoppers,
Buzzing bees. Not one is the same-
Their songs of love.
You canst be with me to watch the sun
Rise; nor the clouds that race o'er the mount.
You cannot see the rippling brook.
But, where'er you are, can you hear-
Its song of love?
The sparkles of dew are tears I've cried.
My memories are moments we shared.
O my sweet, hear the doves? How they coo!
They sing the ballad of what we were-
In their songs of love.
You who were my all, my everything.
Why have you gone away from your love?
Where is death? Soon it will come for me.
Then we will walk the meadows in heaven-
Singing our song of love.