With rosemary for rememberance Senseless with pansies for your thoughts With fennel for your flattery And columbine for unchastity And daisies and violets and rue for your repentance Down to the river's edge she wanders Among the gilded cobras and the willows Meanders through tunnels of bamboo Leaving barefoot tracks along the sand Into reflection's pool she dips her hand Ophelia jump not into the water The river is deep and you'll go down Ophelia chase not the white bird of silence The rot is in Denmark not in your heart Forget the cues and the adornments Forget the princes and your wish for acceptance Out her there are no props no stage lights Out her Ophelia you direct your own life Floating like a lily pad in white She has walked onto the wrong stage This is not her life this is his tragedy Pull the curtains down and stumble to the exit She deserves a lead role not just a small part And the fool's laugh echoes through the stone yard