Love – Literary


Marta Pessarrodona


Christina Rossetti

When I am dead, my dearest,

Sing no sad songs for me;

Plant thou no roses at my head,

Nor shady cypress tree:

Be the green grass above me

With showers and dewdrops

wet; And if thou wilt,


And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,

I shall not feel the rain;

I shall not hear the nightingale

Sing on, as if in pain:

And dreaming through the


That doth not rise nor set,

Haply I may remember,

And haply may forget.

Introductory remarks:

It’s interesting in my view from a translation point of view. Feminists—I am one of them—complaint Latin languages translation of “When I am dead…” as “Quan jo sigui mort” [a man] Could it be a woman? “Quan jo sigui morta”… Also, it’s interesting because Rossetti plays with love/death. So, to say, zenith/ nadir in a human life. Seneca, Carmina invenient iter (or Catalan lives matter).