life has a certain rhythm to it.
ocean surf and rain
contain a cadence, like a language
trying to explain;
the changing light of day to night,
the shifting of the seasons,
the lessons taught by sun and moon,
could thought discern such reason.
and death has certain logic too.
a something like a song,
with bars and measures, harmony
and lyrics that belong.
but nothing like a requiem!
a march, triumphant played.
death's rhythm has a certainty
not other place displayed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem