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 (3)

When I have passed away, How a poet would like him to be remembered, and very well rendered.
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