The coffin's colder
Than the warm cab he was used to-
Though all his friends are there;
Just like it used to be.
The eulogy concludes
And they all replace their caps,
And life keeps going on;
No time for playing Taps.
They're the grown ups now-
Not watching life pass by,
Lamenting all the hours and days
It takes them, to grow up.
So who set the decree today;
Who's walking, who got buried?
They had to hurry back to jobs,
For there are no hours to tarry.
But a grave waits, like a beacon
For each, though they're too busy:
Still, the day comes soon enough,
When they'll have time, to visit.
(Written to Codes & Keys, by Death Cab for Cutie)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
death is only as distant as one's eyesight! another good poem!