walking in grey.
a torn between black and white.20040224
To be a nun with tresses shorn, how pitiful is my plight,
The altar lamp my sole companion burning through the night!
The days and months speed swiftly by, too soon I shall be old,
My beauty gone, the glow of youth, shrivelled, pale and cold.
A convent is incompatible with a nuptial chamber;
Nor are these altar-candles befitted for bridal use.
I am a pretty maiden, not a boy.
Why should I wear these monastic robes and suffer my waist to be bound with a silken sash?
Where can another be found as sad and forlorn as I?
-Dreaming of the World Outside the Nunnery
The altar lamp my sole companion burning through the night!
The days and months speed swiftly by, too soon I shall be old,
My beauty gone, the glow of youth, shrivelled, pale and cold.
A convent is incompatible with a nuptial chamber;
Nor are these altar-candles befitted for bridal use.
I am a pretty maiden, not a boy.
Why should I wear these monastic robes and suffer my waist to be bound with a silken sash?
Where can another be found as sad and forlorn as I?
-Dreaming of the World Outside the Nunnery
