That's what we were made for:
To remember and to be remembered
To weep and to make weep
To bury our dead -
That's why we have long arms to say goodbye
Hands to reap what has been given
Fingers to dig the earth.
This is how our life will be:
An afternoon always to be forgotten
A star fading into the darkness
A path between two graves -
That's why we need to keep watch
Speak softly, tread lightly, watch
The night sleep in silence.
There's not much to say:
A song over a cradle
A verse, perhaps of love
A prayer for the departed -
But may this hour not be forgotten
And for it our hearts
Be left, grave and simple.
For this is what we were made for:
To hope in the miracle
To participate in poetry
To see the face of death -
Suddenly we will never hope again...
Today the night is young; from death, only
We are born, immensely.
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