Do not mourn the dead, my sweet child,

For the dead are free and no longer bound,

Their souls free from earthly ways and claims,

They no longer know or care for tomorrow

For their bones have turned to ash.

Mourn the unfortunate living instead,

For every new day is filled with worries,

Their body and soul knows no true rest.

Their duties and desires always clash,

Greed and worries never fully pass,

There's always a new goal...

Another dream that doesn't last.

So morn them instead of the dead,

Weep for their hope-filled souls

That suffer cruelly until they take

Their last breath.