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I recently wrote this poem:
O, raven where are you flying,
Over the ice and snow?
O, raven surely I'm dying,
And my mother dosen't know...

Fly through the bitter weather,
Fly through the starless night,
Where my people come together,
To sing by firlight...

Find my mother and kiss her,
For I shall not kiss her again.
How sorrowfully I miss her,
Staunching my final pain.

Find my darling lover,
Whose lips are sweeter than wine.
Tell her my life is over,
And she will never be mine.

O, raven where are you flying,
Over the ice and snow?
O, raven now I am dying,
And my mother dosen't know...