Should my passing be anothers loss
Then in life I've earned the right the pass
Mark my place with a simple cross
And celebrate
Sing pure to God on high for me
Pray that in life, in death I be
And shed only a single tear
Let not no nettles settle
Upon this bed
Take care of where I sleep
Worship what has lived so sweet
And never let where I lay
Simply be a bed of clay
Upon my tomb I command
These words be read:
''Stop a while and wonder
What life was lived, now under
In death, a paradise found on high
And you non-believers, pass on by''
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like robert frost's epitaph, 'i had a lover's quarrel with the world',