Email Poem

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Poem

When my body shall lie still
Like a fallen wooden idol 
And all the air gone from my nostril
When I shall be planted, never to stir 
 And my body enriching the soil
Don’t cry for me

I’ m now a salient silent hero
Whose adversaries have fizzled to zero
Gone where my spirit is pleased
Wander in wonders is the deceased 
A call to reap and to rest
I did my deeds all at my best
Don’t cry for me

I only humble to the irrevocable law
Dying for new seeds to grow
Death is better than a bad in-law
Fill the air with the scents of joy
With sweet wines full your jaw 
Let the bongo drums beat out loud and never jeer 
Don’t cry for me

Death is as jealous as a lover
I’m rich, but never a briber
But let my epitaph be written in your heart
A tender remind that is life is an art
The dead’s fame is his good deeds
After these mortal frames are no longer his needs
Be merry, make no mourn
Now that I become among ancestors
Don’t cry for me

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