Here Death strode and left its trace
Where laid its hand to mark the place
Bade stony pages stand in waiting
To offer up in silent greeting
Final words for those distressed
Written out on granite stones
Under which in Deaths caress
Lie sedentary bones
Whose dreaming now is not besot
In earthly tasks nor woes begot
For Death to those in quiet repose
Bequeathed lifes last refrain
And eyes and lips forever closed
For evermore abstain
Yet with a dreamers certainty
Now ponder for eternity
The meaning spake in timeless odes
Upon which Deaths surcease bestowed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem