MOST OF US DO NOT DIE ALL AT ONCE
Most of us do not die all at once-
But in stages-
This man was a person -
Now he cannot speak one clear sentence-
He can lie down and he can walk still- a big blessing-
And food and drink can still be enjoyed-
But he can no longer be what he most really was
When he really was-
Yet when the machine is turned on
And he hears himself sing
As he once could
He is happy humming along to the words he can no longer say—
He is not completely who he was
But he still is some part of himself-
Whatever is left of him
Sings along with what he was
And the music of his dying life goes on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem