Don't stand before my grave and weep; <br />For like poetry I only die in theories of my sleep, <br />'Rather merry with aromatic culinary mead, <br />Until myriad tear-tribes flow from your eyes and bleed. <br /> <br />Don't stand before my grave and weep; <br />'Rather play for me an exotic night-piece, <br />I want to hear the sympathetic strings of that viol, <br />I want to feel the redundant harrows of that harp. <br /> <br />Like a Kachikau cactus blooming from peerage so be I, <br />Evergreen like myrtle so be me, <br />And that seed of over ripeness shall burn at my sight... <br />As I marry death to die only in theories of my sleep, <br /> <br />Don't stand before my grave and weep, <br />For the glorifiable him has put this on oath, <br />Now we are binded by a single noose, <br />To live only and only those dying lose, <br />so don't stand there and weep!<br /><br />Mpho Wordsworth Leteng<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/don-t-stand-before-my-grave-and-weep/
