❝She missed him. He loved her. What could possibly go wrong?❞
Imani is drowning in grief after the sudden loss of her fiancé, Garett. The days blur into each other as the weight of his absence grows heavier with each passing moment.
As autumn settle...
So, I did mention it in the comments a few times but I felt like putting this one REALLY out there, for my reference as well as anyone who would like to read it.
folklore→
I couldn't find the exact poetry/lore for the same but The Spectre Bridegroom by Washington Irving is the closest that matches the tale. There are many versions of it, you can interpret them as you wish.
The Wedding Shirt is part of Karel Jaromír Erben's Kytice (or Bouquet), a collection of Czech folk ballads published in 1853. Erben drew directly from Slavic folklore, often focusing on themes of love, death, and fate.
The Spectre Bridegroom, on the other hand, is one of the short stories in Washington Irving's The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent. (1819-1820). Irving, an American writer, often drew from European folklore and the Gothic literary tradition.
These are distinct stories from different cultural backgrounds, but they share similar themes rooted in folklore.
Both stories use the trope of a "spectral bridegroom" or a ghostly lover, a common element in European folklore symbolizing the dangers of yearning for someone who has died.
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"The Spectre Bridegroom" was inspired by German legends, but this time Irving retained the location and period of the original material. The most obvious source is Gottfried August Bürger's Lenore (1774), which Irving mentions in passing within the story itself. Bürger's ballad depicts a young woman whisked away from her home on horseback by an apparition that resembles her lost fiancé, who had gone missing in action on the battlefield. The poem was first introduced to English readers in 1796, when the still-unknown Walter Scott published a loose translation with the title "William and Helen." Irving, almost certainly familiar with the original German ballad, turns the tale on its head and presents a ghost story that is more burlesque than Gothic.
poem→
The Spectre's Bride (Czech: Svatební košile; literally "The Wedding Shirt") by Karel Jaromír Erben
It struck eleven of the night; The little lamp still shed its light; The little lamp was burning still That hung above the kneeling sill.
Upon the wall of a low room God's mother's image hung in gloom, The mother with her Baby-God— An open rose, a tender bud.
And at the feet of that great saint A maiden's kneeling with her plaint. She knelt with her face bending low, Her hands lay on her chest below; Hot tears came dropping from her eyes, Her breast rose high with grief and sighs, And as a little tear would drop, Upon her white breast it would stop.
"Alas! Where is my father gone? With green grass his grave's overgrown! Alas! Where is my mother dear? She's lying by my father near! A bullet brought my brother's fall; My sister shortly joined them all!
"I had a lover in my heart For whom with life I'd gladly part. He's gone away—I've lost his track— And up till now he came not back.
"While leaving, he allayed my fears, He soothed my grief and dried my tears,
" 'Sow flax, my sweetheart, on your lay, Keep thinking of me eve'ry day. The first year you shall daily spin, The second, bleach your linen thin, The third year, work your needle, pin. Your shirts once finished and laid down, You'll weave your blooming myrtle crown.'
"My shirts are finished, they are done; They're laid in my chest one by one; My myrtle's blossoms fade and fall; My sweetheart does not come at all! Far in the world he's lost and gone Like in the ocean's depth a stone. For three years he cannot be found, And God knows if he's alive and sound!
"Oh Mary! Virgin powerful! Lend me thy help, be merciful! Bring back my lover from afar, The blossom of my bliss, my star! Bring back my love from foreign land— Or take my life by sudden end! With him alone my life can bloom, Without him ev'rything is gloom. Oh Mary! Mother of relief, Be merciful and sooth my grief!"
The picture moved above the light; The maiden screamed aloud in fright; The lamp which had been burning low Burst with a crash and stopped to glow. May be, it was a blast of wind, May be—an omen of some kind!
Hark! On the walk there sounds a step, And at the window ,rap, rap, rap! "Halloo, dear! Do you wake or sleep? Come, tell me how your health does keep? Hoh, sweetheart I came at your will; Tell me if you do know me still Or someone else comes to your sill?"
"Oh darling me! For heaven's sake! I think of you just while I wake! With you my thoughts have always stayed: This minute yet for you I prayed!"
"Hah! quit your prayers—don't stop long, Arise and come with me along! The moon shines bright on our ride: I just arrived to claim my bride."
"For God's sake! Ah, what do you say? It is so late,—Ah, let us stay! The night is dark; the wind blows high; Don't go away—the daybreak's nigh."
"Hah, day is night and night is day— I sleep in daytime, I can't stay! Before the roosters start to crow You shall be mine—now let us go. Don't tarry long, spring to my side, To-night yet you shall be my bride!"
The night was deep; upon the sky The moon shone brightly from up high; The village lay in deep repose; A gust of wind at times arose.
