Ars moriendi (The Art of Dying)

From cold and distant mountains came
The news that you were gone;
A thousand stars stood silently,
Upon the edge of speech and thought,
While I — I held you one last time:
A shadow, frail and tiny, not
The storm, the ocean wave
You used to be

And there, amid the midnight chill,
I heard a song like summertime;
Like fireflies, the stars,
Those faithful thanes,
Were swarming overhead
To leave the skies in drops I knew
Had not come from
The eyes I show the world

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2 Thoughts to “Ars moriendi (The Art of Dying)

    1. My Latin is not fabulous, but thank you.

      The poem’s title was the title of a then-famous book written in the 1400’s. I liked the sound of it.

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