CAMÕES ADDRESSES HIS CONTEMPORARIES Poem by Jorge de Sena

You can steal all that's mine:
my ideas, words, images,
my metaphors, themes, motifs,
my symbols and preeminence
in suffering the pains of a new language,
in understanding others, in daring
to fight, to judge, to penetrate
recesses of love where you are impotent.
And then you can refuse to quote me,
you can suppress me, ignore me, and even
acclaim other thieves, luckier than you.
It doesn't matter: your punishment
will be grim. For when your grandchildren
no longer know who you are
they'll know me much better
than you pretend not to,
and all that you have painstakingly pillaged
will revert to my name. Even what little
you did not steal but achieved on your own
will be mine, counted as mine, credited to me.
You'll have nothing at all, not even your bones,
for they'll dig up one of your skeletons
ans say it's mine. So that other thieves, just
like you, can kneel and place flowers on my tomb.