Those who saved all they made
And those who enjoyed whatever they made
They all ended up six feet under
But want to be alive again.
- RK
***
XVII
Those who And those who husbanded the Golden Grain,
And those who flung it to the Winds like Rain,
Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd
As, buried once, Men want dug up again.
- Edward Fitzgerald
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem