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letra de ah, are you digging on my grave - david moore

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ah, are you digging on my grave
my loved one?–planting rue?”
–“no; yesterday he went to wed
one of the brightest wealth has bred
‘it cannot hurt her now,’ he said
that i ‘should not be true.'”

then who is digging on my grave?
my nearest dearest kin?”
–“ah, no; they sit and think, ‘what use!
what good will planting flowers produce?
no tendance of her mound can loose
her spirit from death’s gin.'”

but someone digs upon my grave?
my enemy?–prodding sly?”
–“nay; when she hеard you had passed the gate
that shuts on all flеsh soon or late
she thought you no more worth her hate
and cares not where you lie.”

then, who is digging on my grave?
say–since i have not guessed!”
–“0 it is i, my mistress dear
your little dog, who still lives near
and much i hope my movements here
have not disturbed your rest?”
ah, yes! you dig upon my grave . .
why flashed it not on me
that one true heart was left behind!
what feeling do we ever find
to equal among humankind
a dog’s fidelity!”

mistress, i dug upon your grave
to bury a bone, in case
i should be hungry near this spot
when passing on my daily trot
i am sorry, but i quite forgot
it was your resting-place.”

- david moore

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