It's night and it's dark,
My pale body buried under the ground,
Everyone gathered around me in the graveyard,
My coffin and my shroud is all I have around,
It's winter and it's cold,
My pale body buried under the ground,
So badly shivering is my soul,
And the coffin is too compact to toss and turn down,
They are pouring above my coffin sand and soil,
And I am trying to hop out,
They are locking the coffin and in it my turmoil soul,
And I will be left alone in it with all my doubts,
Should I be dead knowing this,
That you will still not come,
Just for the last time on my funeral,
My army of one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem