Be True To Me. Poem by Maveriqué Richard

Say not what would please the ears;
To the lofty flies that'd feast my blood,
Sprinkle not the cakes icing;
When worms come to dine my flesh.
For not now that silence had swallowed my voice;
And my spirit have deserted its flesh,
Not now that I grapple to gasp my last;
You sing me praises with trumpets and bass.

Be fair to this wilted soul I bear;
When it lowers into its Messaih's palm.
Please show them not thine gracile remain;
When its essence calls to depart.
For my eyes are weak;
My lips thick;
Both already feels too heavy to part.
My feet are cold;
Its body stills,
Please taint not the sparkling joy you feel.

Oh! Dear friend, be firm and true,
Like you had been when we both were two.
Paint not my coffin brightly and bold.
Build not its wall with silver and gold.
Let not your wealth be lavished on me;
Nor on my newly found abode.
Please dear friend remain as true.
And show them how you've loved me so.