The last needles will fall
from the pine tree tall.
Thick brows, bold heads,
speckled hands
old faces.
Devoted to a cause
to unify all nations
and all human races.
The beds so clean
awaiting patiently
one, two, three
a missionary
still talking
till the end
-still walking-
of others' misery
to me it seems to be
'Cor unum et anima una'
an era gone.
*
Madrason aug 13 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem