Here I am
Until here I am not,
Taken by death
And soon forgot.
Stuck in a box
In the cold, damp earth
Not much room to move
And not much room for mirth.
They say words
Over my soil
Which others have dug
And filled with their toil.
Yet here I lay
Gone and forgotten
My bones left behind,
My flesh turned rotten.
Goodbye old world
My temporary home.
I lay my head now
In a longer lasting tomb.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Its the constant pendulum hanging over us. Death, when we really are aware of it, it alters everything we do. We are not masters but food for nature. Such a great poem.
Glad you liked it - life has its entrances and exits