The throng that came filled the church
The box can only hold a body
A diamond, a life - the box is not the end
It can not hold a soul
Nor the numbers in our church so bold
To declare by their presence that death is not the end.
There is that which lives beyond the frame
It is our spirits that roam the earth for good or ill
It matters not that we are still
For we always live in others.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem