Она ушла - таким путём.
Лишь бездыханной став,
Надела скромный гардероб,
Вслед солнца путь начав.
Её фигуру у ворОт,
Наверное, украл
Архангел - ведь никто её
Средь мёртвых не видал.
She died — this was the way she died.
And when her breath was done
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gate
The Angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side.