I took a year out of my life and story—
A dead year, and said, 'I will hew thee a tomb!
'All the kings of the nations lie in glory;'
Cased in cedar, and shut in a sacred gloom;
Swathed in linen, and precious unguents old;
Fainted with cinnabar, and rich with gold.
'Silent they rest, in solemn salvatory,
Sealed from the moth and the owl and the
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem