Perhaps if Death is kind, and there can be returning,
We will come back to earth some fragrant night,
And take these lanes to find the sea, and bending
Breathe the same honeysuckle, low and white.
We will come down at night to these resounding beaches
And the long gentle thunder of the sea,
Here for a single hour in the wide starlight
We shall be happy, for the dead are free.
From a village boy
The poet excellently handles English and has a miraculous flair for natural rhyming!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Death, be kind.