Standing at the edge of life, looking back over our shoulders,
thinking about all the good times that we've had through the
years.
Always standing, ready to go into vibrant depths of life and
its memories, allowing us to remember details that once escaped
us while they were alive.
Solemn, yet happy to have loved and been loved by all family
members and friends, making life worthwhile until the end when
we meet wreaths of death left hanging on our graves.
Now holding ones we have loved and been loved, but now being
unrecognizable beneath the dirt, the only joy being spread
above them being flowers we've brought to them now, yet they
are in heaven.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem