Country Garden Lady, 🌻 PATRIOT WWG1WGA, Truth Seeker, Plant Seeds of Love 💚💙💜 TS @CountryGardenLady17 Twitter @nonedarecallit
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This facsimile copies of one of the paintings from Nefertari's tomb. In this vignette, the queen sits in front of a table playing a game of senet again(st) an invisible opponent. This was a popular game in life, but when represented in a tomb, as here, it has symbolic meaning. The word senet means "passing" and the game was seen as a parallel to the journey into the afterlife and the obstacles one had to overcome on the way.
I sing my song because the Earth sings; though the wind is hushed among the groves, it still plays with soft melodic gaiety.
The benevolent sky looks gently down, its breath stilled as it listens to the melody of the leaves.
The dew smiles in the morning, for it has captured the light of love from the stars.
My song is beautiful because my heart dances gladly in my bosom; its joyfulness conveys gay music to my thoughts and places endearing words on my lips.
Because I am dedicated to love, I have but one love, the beautiful container of my life.
My heart is a lonely thing ever seeking companionship with yours.
It is lost to you, so let it beat in your breast, nestled against your heart, for there it surely belongs.
My love is wholesome, not tainted by any residue of past affections; it is gentle and pure; therefore,
treat it with manly tenderness, for it is a precious treasure. I give it gladly and can give no more.
That which I give to you, I can give to no other man.
For you, the lovely pearl; for others, the empty shell.
Let me live just for you, let me serve as your housewife.
Let me hold your child to my breast; let my eyes be gladdened by your presence each night and in the morning.
Let me bask continuously in the wonderful
radiance of your presence.
Never part me from the source of my joyfulness
and gaiety, but let us go down the corridor of life together, your arm laid on my arm and my hand in your hand.
My heart is desolation; it is like a wilted flower. You are away, my love, and my eyes search the road for your coming.
The caress of sleep eludes me, for your image is ever there beside me, and I cannot find consolation with even the most comforting shadow.
Come to me, my living love, that I may feel the warmth of your flesh and be at peace.
While you are absent, I concern myself no more with things, which give pleasure to a woman's heart.
I neglect my hair arrangement, and my diadem hangs disregarded.
My curls are laid aside, for I await your coming to put them on and greet you in my gaiety.
The song is silent on my lips, for my heart is without joy.
