Sepulchre
I have mounded the corpse of my sorrow And wreathed it with roses fair
That none who may pass on the morrow May know what lies buried there.
Georgia Douglas Johnson
I have mounded the corpse of my sorrow And wreathed it with roses fair
That none who may pass on the morrow May know what lies buried there.
The speaker describes building a grave for her sorrow, covering it with beautiful roses so that no one passing by will suspect what lies underneath. On the surface, the act sounds almost gentle: she has laid her pain to rest and decorated the spot.
Leer el resumen completo