by Magda Isanos
It is so sad to think that one day
Perhaps tomorrow, the trees on the alley
Will still be where you see them now,
So happy smiling, while we shall be rotting…
There’s so much sun, Lord, so much sun
Will still remain long after we are gone
Entourages of seasons, and of rain
With pear trees that are streaming shade…
This grass will be forever springing,
And moon will always bend this way, surprised
Upon the water which will keep on flowing,
But we alone won’t live another life.
I find it very strange that we still
Can find so many many days for hatred,
When life is just a very little droplet
Between this minute, beating
And the next one – and it is unapprehended
And sad that we don’t watch the sky more often,
That we do not pick flowers, and don’t smile
Us, people who so quickly die.
* She was only 28 years old when she died, in 1944. She was a lawyer, poet and journalist.