Tranquil and dormant
Draped with white linen
in drab countenance
The cemetery door is opened
and ghostly figures stand with beckoning signs
Awaiting to receive their new born
into their bosom
A mutual agreement is respected
Life has a tale no more in him
A genius goes to meet the ancestors
But the value of man is hidden
until his demise
And we yearn for him in vain
as the palanquin of death
holds our beloved one
Where is your sight...
You who could see but now is blind?
Where is your hearing..
Oh you who could hear but now is deaf?
lying so quiet and calm
Telling the Gosple to the sullen hearts
The necklace of death
hangs around our necks
And the transit train moves slowly
to stop for us to board in turn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem