The Untitled

Oblivion

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 passers-by to tombs of state.

To me would never penetrate the prayers and tears 
That futilely bring torture to dead and dying ears; 
There I should lie annihilate and my dead heart would bless 
Oblivion—the shroud and envelope of happiness.

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From the French of 
Massillon Coicou ( Haiti )