石基連詩集
by Raymonde Sacklyn
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Not the Grave
What man has done to man
And continues so to do;
What religion means to many,
To families, extended,
And, sadly, children, too.
Then, bury the dead,
Recite prayers, incantations replete,
Justify deeds, mistranslations read
By high Clergy, imbued with God’s true word.
Sing His praises … as the dead
Sleep, forever, beneath the sod,
Their sufferings, never again, heard.
Ask that mother about sons and daughters:
‘What do you, most ardently, crave?’
Her answer:
‘Certainly, not the grave!’
