Cinders from no holy tree may leave proof—
How hoary upon earth was once their spell,
Nor dust would demur if it came from roof
Of hallowed church, or stray chunk ere it fell;
Or if the dust was blown off a tiny
Burst of breeze or by a world-wind in spate,
No warden would vouch for its pedigree,
Nor would a priest predict its sublime fate.
Hushed up lie all dusty graves stony mute,
As might the ash of a funeral pyre—
If it peeled off a prince in regal suit,
Or off a pauper that died a death dire;
For, death cometh equal in gasping breath,
Levelling all— if not in life, in death!
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Sonnets | 01.11.11 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
If it peeled off a prince in regal suit, Or off a pauper that died a death dire; For, death cometh equal in gasping breath, Levelling all— if not in life, in death! prince and the beggar..... we are all equal there at the funeral pyre. wisdom from your blessed brain. tony
Thank you so much Dr Brahmin, but in a lighter way, a poet is not known so much for his wisdom, as for how he presents it in a poem. So, where do I stand?