I am who I am because the tears of my past have watered the magnificence of my present.
Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall To speak thy pain, Gently as through the silver dusk The silver rain. Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grief In such soft sigh As hath the wind in gardens where Pale roses die.
Verse by Adelaide Crapsey
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Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall To speak thy pain, Gently as through the silver dusk The silver rain. Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grief In such soft sigh As hath the wind in gardens where Pale roses die.
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If it is possible to die of grief then why on earth can't someone be healed by happiness?
She needed to recover. His father had died in January; it was only the end of May. They needed to stick to the routine they'd established during the intervening months. in that way, their life would return to its original shape, like a spring stretched in bad times but contracting eventually into happiness. That the world could come permanently unsprung had never occurred to him.
The more death, the more birth. People are entering, others are exiting. The cry of a baby, the mourning of others. When others cry, the other are laughing and making merry. The world is mingled with sadness, joy, happiness, anger, wealth, poverty, etc.
Lament invoked love.Woe invoked wonder.Grief invoked grace.Cry invoked celebration.(Page 80)
Mother earth cried so much that she has pool of tears more than the land of happiness.