How shall I weep with those who mourn
When I have sensed the sweeter breeze
Wafting o'er the stones and through the trees
Across the sealed bronzed lid of death-borne
Sadness, yet eternal healing surely means
The bereft of pain are free;
The bereft of loss are free.
And so am I who stands before the glaring pit
Gazing into vast eternity, thinking only of me.
I shall not linger long to greet the wounded
Souls, whose cries of anguish at the bier
Reawakened in me long-dormant fear of dying
O, pity me, that I should self-accusing be
Grief-stricken without a solitary tear.
Topic(s) of this poem: death, eternity, fear
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.