Oblivion cunning
Amongst the graves
He roams
Smiling
Day and night
His was work be easy
For
In the hum-drum drear
Of days
All days
Day after day
He oversees that
Just things remain
Unnoticed or at war
His net be wide
A few escape it
To his dismay
But
Then he sees
Vast crowds inside
Feels satisfaction
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem