The ‘valor' was rich as the bygone years,
That slept with him in his silent graves
The sulking verses below the reposing Earth
Unvoiced death in soundless rave
It moved, it twitched in anguish and wrath
Down below that rotting cage,
The slumbering death had risen again
To mend earthly life with its deadly swage.
It prepared to smack, to ravage and distort
Mortals in their illusion-land,
Who reveled and danced in forged prejudice
Where Justice, honor and all law was banned.
Men fed with dread, with wrath and lust
That treaded above that sloven grave
‘Death' thought and mocked at the bellowing mobs,
At the flimsy life, so shallow, so naive!
It smiled and said from his decadent abode,
"This grave above my groping grave"
Where fetid lives in ruddy streams,
Smeared with prejudice, in blood they laved.
Death plays, and laughs in mirth, in pride,
When a sudden ray through the cask invades
The creeping reed above that cask,
And death again stood betrayed.
There might be wrath, and envy too
But smiles life, where death does sleep,
There might be a grave above the grave
Grows Life of death where death reposes deep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Brilliant! ! ! Thoroughly loved & cherished your portrait of Death :)