The mind sees best what the eyes are too afraid to see.
The rest is up to the marvels of time,
My dearly departed friends
Life will not be some shallow grave among a hillside setting,
Nor will it be death.
But I’m sorry and for this I hope you oblige,
That for lack of a better burial ground,
We’ve sprouted a small country
With an even smaller flag.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem