Who will even remember my name
And who will remember my fame,
And who will remember when I had cried
When because of her my soul had died.
Who will remember my poems and stories written
Who will remember when by love I was smitten,
And who will remember any of my verses
When they were inspired by her lies and curses.
Who will remember my suffering and my pain
When she controlled my heart with a lace rein,
And who will remember the suffering that I went through
Because of her and what she knew.
Who will remember the fights that I had fought
And the many victories that I got,
And who will remember the love that I desired
And who will remember the hurt that she inspired.
Who will remember the many life's I had crossed
And who will remember me when the roses are tossed,
And who will remember what did occur
Who will not remember me, but will remember her.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem