Eternity

The day I shall be sleeping in my last sleep
Nothing you all will feel strange,
Nor on the sphere can be found any difference.

But for the Bard
All those emotions,
All those feelings
Which were creeping
With the speed of a sloth
Around a greenish sod,
Will evanesce
Like the morning-mist in sunshine.

Every now and then in winter
The yellow leaves falter,
I used to yowl around the Pacific;
Bit-by-bit spring comes
And makes it green again.

Dewy fresh Olive
And I forget the melody of those fallen leaves.

Like that
You all will be fossils of mine,
When I shall be sleeping in my last sleep
Unheard,
Unsung
Like an arid wood.