At this particular time I have no one Particular person to grieve for, though there must Be many, many unknown ones going to dust Slowly, not remembered for what they have done Or left undone. For these, then, I will grieve Being impartial, unable to deceive. How they lived, or died, is quite unknown, And, by that fact gives my grief purity, An important person quite apart from me Or one obscure who drifted down alone. Both or all I remember, have a place. For these I never encountered face to face. Sentiment will creep in. I cast it out Wishing to give these classical repose, No epitaph, no poppy and no rose From me, and certainly no wish to learn about The way they lived or died. In earth or fire They are gone. Simply because they were human, I admire.
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