dear Lilibet, goodbye

Nun ist sie in London angekommen, der vorerst letzten Station ihrer Reise durch ihr Reich; das Land hat gezeigt, was pomp and circumstance bedeutet. Abraham Lincoln hat man nach seinem Tod durch halb Amerika zu seinem Heimatort gefahren. Walt Whitman hat das in When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom'd bedichtet:

When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom’d,
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
I mourn’d, and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
Ever-returning spring, trinity sure to me you bring,
Lilac blooming perennial and drooping star in the west, 
And thought of him I love.

Was bleibet aber, stiften die Dichter. Der Hofdichter Simon Armitage hat gestern ein Gedicht zum Tod der Königin veröffentlicht, es sind - wie bei Walt Whitman - Blumen in seinem Gedicht, das ✺Floral Tribute heißt.

Evening will come, however determined the late afternoon,
Limes and oaks in their last green flush, pearled in September mist.
I have conjured a lily to light these hours, a token of thanks,
Zones and auras of soft glare framing the brilliant globes.
A promise made and kept for life – that was your gift –
Because of which, here is a gift in return, glovewort to some,
Each shining bonnet guarded by stern lance-like leaves.
The country loaded its whole self into your slender hands,
Hands that can rest, now, relieved of a century’s weight.

Evening has come. Rain on the black lochs and dark Munros.
Lily of the Valley, a namesake almost, a favourite flower
Interlaced with your famous bouquets, the restrained
Zeal and forceful grace of its lanterns, each inflorescence
A silent bell disguising a singular voice. A blurred new day
Breaks uncrowned on remote peaks and public parks, and
Everything turns on these luminous petals and deep roots,
This lily that thrives between spire and tree, whose brightness
Holds and glows beyond the life and border of its bloom.

Das Internet ist voll von Gedichten auf die Königin, ich habe eins gefunden, das mir gefällt. Es ist von Susan Jarvis Bryant, einer Frau aus Kent, die nach Texas geheiratet hat, aber im Herzen in England geblieben ist. Es ist ein Sonett, das For My Queen heißt:

My symbol of nobility, stability and grace,
Who reigned and never ruled: my constant caring face
On TV screen, on stamps, in scenes of history’s changing view,
Has slipped away this solemn day—her time to bid adieu.

The only monarch I have loved, the only queen I’ve known
(This stalwart soul my heart embraced as family of my own)
Has left the throne for greater realms beyond the fuss and fray.
She’s left me with a wealth of wondrous memories at play.

So on this day, I’d like to say—dear Lilibet, goodbye.
My one and only gracious Queen, please hear my grateful cry—
You shone with poise and dignity and honour and respect
In times when truth had lost its way and hope was all but wrecked…

By those who never saw the light in eyes that blazed as bright
As anthems sung in notes that rose like Windsor swans in flight.