Oh I the weary do not lie here in peace,
I lie like the forgotten and the deceased.
I lie like the wounded that cannot stand,
And so in death become part of the land.
Struck still as others pass,
Leave me in this bloodied grass.
I am too wary to strive again,
I am too wary to make amends.
Take my mind and drain it please,
Flush out the melancholy and disease.
And then I beg you find my heart,
It has been over a year since it did depart.
Tell him that it's his to keep,
I will not need it in my sleep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem