Cease to murder the dead,
Cry no longer, do not cry out
As if you wish them still to hear,
Still hope not yourselves to perish.
They return an imperceptible whisper,
Make no more sound
Than the growing of grass
Happy where no man passes.
Cease to murder the dead,
Cry no longer, do not cry out
As if you wish them still to hear,
Still hope not yourselves to perish.
They return an imperceptible whisper,
Make no more sound
Than the growing of grass
Happy where no man passes.