The Day of My Funeral

My willingness to move, that day, Frightened me As still as a log I lay While they all surrounded me, to see, What was wrong? Why was I so complying? For years they had tried to hold My free spirit, my free soul But never had they succeeded to mold, My body in the shape of their wodden coffins But today I could see, tears of joy Roll down their fair face As they lift me and place my carcass In that wooden case. They nail down the lid tightly Lest I should again escape Then throw me down the deep deep hole And turn back to go away Lying beneath the layers of sand That they had piled upon me Mother! Mother! I cry In one monotonous tone Mother! Mother! I shout My skin turning to bone But even she doesn't look back She who knows I'm so afraid to be alone.