Oblivion

^{From the French of Massillon Coicou (Haiti)}

I hope when I am dead that I shall lie 

   In some deserted grave—I cannot tell you why, 

But I should like to sleep in some neglected spot

   Unknown to every one, by every one forgot. 

There lying I should taste with my dead breath

    The utter lack of life, the fullest sense of death; 

And I should never hear the note of jealousy or hate, 

   The tribute paid by passersby to tombs of state. 



To me would never penetrate the prayers and tears

    That futilely bring torture to daed and dying ears; 

There I should annihilate and my dead heart would bless

    Oblivion—the shroud and envelope of happiness.