The Cemetery at Arlington, Virginia Poem by Adrian Grima

In this first open air school I've ever visited
there are desks and students who are quiet and diligent,
placed in rows that are almost perfect.
But the silence is no coincidence,
or passivity, or thanklessness or the teacher.
What they needed to learn they have learnt,
and they are silent now, so we can learn,
we who wander around these modern classrooms,
searching without a clue - unless given one by our ancestors -
to how we found ourselves in the best possible school.

Some of the ex-alumni have a desk
that is larger than that of their classmates
but the majority seems to have noticed this discrepancy in time
and had their desk cut down to size,
just big enough for a person's body
and some space to scribble on.

At Arlington they teach you everything at once
and after that, there's nothing left to ask.

Translated by Maria Grech Ganado