However good the convener's intentions,
A grave will crash a party
To deliberately and perversely
Hasten its end,
The convener will cede control,
Either stoking the fires of pride
Or retreating to a hole;
And what the prophet said
About a grave and its appetite,
That there is no limit to the ability
Of the grave to satisfy its cravings,
Will be proved to be manifestly right.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem