When I have drawn lifes last fleeting
Breath do with me as you will,
Sear me in a firey grate or bury me
On a sunny hill.
My flesh will be of no avail, I'll be clothed
In another shroud.
Attired in grace and glory, floating on
A cloud.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi Richard, Very touching.Thank you for sharing it with us Shirley