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.