In the damp dark night
the dead lusts for light,
he could but never did strive
at the time that found him alive,
for doing a little good work,
some good to leave his mark
leave a little happiness behind
but these never came to his mind.
He always thought it best
not to bother about the rest....
rest he has now found
some depth beneath the ground
lusting for a little light
but time is merciless, so is the night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Can just say that it is so beautiful