Villanelle

We said farewell, my youth and I,     When all fair dreams were gone or going,     And Loves red lips were cold and dry.     When white blooms fell from tree-tops high,     Our Austral winters way of snowing,     We said farewell, my youth and I.     We did not sigh, what use to sigh     When Death passed as a mower mowing,     And Loves red lips were cold and dry?     But hearing Lifes stream thunder by,     That sang of old through flowers flowing,     We said farewell, my youth and I.     There was no hope in the blue sky,     No music in the low winds blowing,     And Loves red lips were cold and dry.     My hair is black as yet, then why     So sad! I know not, only knowing     We said farewell, my youth and I.     All are not buried when they die;     Dead souls there are through live eyes showing     When Loves red lips are cold and dry.     So, seeing where the dead men lie,     Out of their hearts the grave-flowers growing,     We said farewell, my youth and I,     When Loves red lips were cold and dry.