Do not stand at my grave and weep

"Do not stand at my grave and weep . . . I am not there."

Comments

[Stoutcat]

Oh Sissy, I would give anything for you not to weep. And yet...

If the tears are for joy that was, and for the memories of that joy, are they not then truly tears of joy?

Virtual hugs to you and the cat whisperer.

[Connecticut Yankee]

Sissy, do you know Joachim du Bellay's (1525-1560) elegy on the death of his little gray cat Belaud?

Here is an English translation by David J. Justman:

His well-formed head,
Silvered whiskers,
His damsel-like muzzle.
My God, what entertainment it was
When this Belaud spun insanely
Around a ball.
What a pleasure, when his silly head,
Following his tail a thousand times
Imitated the run of a spinning wheel.
O what a sorrow! O what a loss,
Which cannot be recovered!
Yes, three days ago I lost
My pleasure, my good, my loves.
Truly Death was inhuman;
If she took the trouble of seeing
Such a cat, she should have
had mercy on it, I believe.
May God will, little Belaud,
That I may be witty enough
To be able to blazon your gentle race,
In some beautiful style.
Belaud, whose beauty was such,
That it is worthy of being immortal.
Belaud, my little cat!
Belaud, my little gray cat!

Dear Baby, requies-cat in pace.

[Sissy Willis]

Stoutcat: Your words leave me speechless. God bless.

Connecticut Yankee: "O what a sorrow! O what a loss,
Which cannot be recovered! That I may be witty enough . . ."

Thank you, thank you, thank you.