Minute a poem about death

Minute

 

A splendid fire burns in its final minute. 

I feel warmed by its murmuring flames.

Then death brings the infinite, 

and takes away the fames and shames. 

I collect ashes for one last salute,

before they fall into the stone-cold chamber.

Every grain of ash is invisibly minute,

Every minute of burning is forever to remember. 

 

在哪里读到， 生是偶然， 死是必然。 生命的过程， 就是选择死亡的过程， 何时何地何种方式。 可惜， 不是每个人都能幸运地选择。  

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• minute: extremely small -颤音- ♂ (0 bytes) () 08/02/2017 postreply 07:07:07