5: Quia Pulvis Es -

They leave, those remain.

Under the dark north wind, the thousand voices cry,

Dust and mankind, all flew at once.

Alas! the same wind in the shade where we are,

All the heads of the men,

On all sheets of wood.

Those who remain to those who pass

Say-Wretched! already your brows fade.

What! you will not hear the speech and noise!

What! you will not see neither heaven nor the trees!

You will sleep under the marbles!

You will fall in the Night -

Those who go to those who remain

Say-You have nothing to you! your tears attest!

For you, glory and happiness are disappointing words.

God gives dead real property, real realms.

Alive! you are ghosts;

It is we who are alive! -

Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.