The burial ground at Reed Church is where my people rest
Seven generations dwell among scattered stones
Untold memories… forgotten and forever hidden
Some I have never seen or spoken to, but I know them well
Under moonlit sky and Christian cross
I am blood of their blood and cannot deny them
Because I tended the burial ground at Reed, I am bound
to this soil the way a farmer is bound to his fields
Someday my remains will be added to the earth
And I will be with the ones I loved once more
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem