If you're to leave;
Are you worth of a grief;
On knees at your grave to weep; .
Or you're merely a page to flip?
If you are to leave;
Would eyes be in tears;
Mourning and crooning prayers;
Or shall your goodbye be cheers;
Or there be spits reaching six feet under;
For you lived not humane but a greed, a plunder.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem