When I leave this world
I won’t mind leaving the racists behind
You wouldn’t mind either
If you were me
I will mind leaving the moments
When all is sweet and breezes blow
Against my face as you must know
I will miss the freshness of spring
The smells of fall, the taste of rain
And the crispness of new snow
I won’t mind leaving the envy behind
Nor, will I lament the prideful fool
That goes to war for the gold he’ll find
And never thanks God, because that’s his rule
Oh, if you were me
You would certainly miss trees
Like the mighty Sequoyah
The Maple, the Pine, and the Baobab too
Even the grape, that grows on the vine
That you would miss, if you’ve ever drank wine
No, I don’t mind leaving
The takers and thieves
I will mind leaving the giver that grieves
I will miss the love
And, you surely will too
If it’s happened to you
Yet, the love that we’ve given
Will always remain
When I leave this world
As I surely will, I shall never miss music
Not magic, nor song
For, I’m taking those with me
Lord knows me too well
For without those ingredients
Any where would be hell!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem