Love until death

Doris Ruck-Hanke

In the church yard, by the choir loft

Blooms an elderberry bush,

A white dove flies from it,

Before the day breaks.

It flies through an alley

Maybe even two,

It flies to my window,

Directly to me.

Now I see my darling

in his white garb

And his silver ring

which I gave him, on his hand.

It nods to me in greeting,

Sits down on the bed,

Looks freely into my face,

But it leaves me cold.

Three weeks after Easter,

When the nightowl cries,

We celebrate our wedding,

My darling said that to me.

Very quiet is my wedding,

We are not having a dance.

Who comes along to church?

Who braids me a wreath?