Ophelia’s Lament – Chaitanya Kadimisetty

Hang on for a minute...we're trying to find some more stories you might like.


Email This Story






Fathom not, dear friends, love is but a curse,
Risen from the beginning yet with no happy verse
Be physical, my love, with tokens and gold
For you, some aloe, so that our love may grow old

My only daughter, drowned in her sorrows,
Loved dear Hamlet, as there was no tomorrow,
Purest to all, maiden of my heart,
I give thee this rosemary, to heaven thy may impart.

A queen of the nation, she dare embarrass me!
My son hath spoiled her! Mad as he might be!
How dare she question my love! My faith!
With carnations around her, in hell, I shall wait.

Who beith she, to question my faith!
All others who oppose, ye king shall show wraiths
To question my virtue, and belittle my mirth!
For her is this columbine, to sully her worth.

Alas! Alas! Haughty as she was,
Now dead in a casket, once seeking applause
Dared to speak against the royal blood’s beside,
Sunflower in hand, in solitary she shall lie.

Print Friendly, PDF & Email