Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | May 8, 2009


by Jessie Fauset (1882 – 1961).

Oblivion (before 1922)
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                                  5
  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 dead and dying ears;                          10
There I should lie annihilate and my dead heart would bless 
  Oblivion—the shroud and envelope of happiness.


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