When I Have Passed Away

When I have passed away and am forgotten,
And no one living can recall my face,
When under alien sod my bones lie rotten
With not a tree or stone to mark the place;

Perchance a pensive youth, with passion burning,
For olden verse that smacks of love and wine,
The musty pages of old volumes turning,
May light upon a little song of mine,

And he may softly hum the tune and wonder
Who wrote the verses in the long ago;
Or he may sit him down awhile to ponder
Upon the simple words that touch him so.

by Claude McKay

Comments (2)

THE CONENT OF POEM APPEARS SIMPLISTIC YET IT TOUCHES ON MAN'S DESIRE TO BE IMMORTAL / TO BE REMEMBERED
THE CONENT OF POEM APPEARS SIMPLISTIC YET IT TOUCHES ON MAN'S DESIRE TO BE IMMORTAL / TO BE REMEMBERED