Son, when I am dead
Put no angels at my head
Buy flowers for your girl instead
Son, when my soul has flown
Etch not my age in brass and stone
Write to your love or pickup the 'phone
I will come in a smile or your baby's hand
I will be at the seaside buried in sand
So son when I am read
Remember these little words I said
''Seek the living not the dead
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem