“Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine,
Et lux purpetura luceat eis.
Te decet hymus, Deus, in sion,
Et tibu reddetur votum in Jeruselem
Exaudi orationem meam ad te omnis caro veneint
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine
Et lux perpetua luceat eis.”
When we are no more,
What then of our dry flesh to mere stone?
Faith turned away from the book.
Vir terrae ad terram (man of the earth to the earth)
Lying among the winters lifeless wood,
The sound that crept from the earth,
That sound of hoof against dry leaf,
That in the glade yet not,
A symphony of crisp sound,
Sounds that echo and writhe in the dull windy space.
What then of this dew to mere flesh?
Vinqui movbat ex terra (He has conquered and moved from the earth)
Moving again, the waters, surface still.
The goose that makes his archaic march up and back the coast.
Vir terae ad terram (Man is grounded to the earth)
Standing among the winters late branches, an array of blue pushes into the sky, and now the day half withdrawn
The moon has not tucked itself away into the west,
Nor has the dew broken with the ground.
Still the light echos and writhes in that dull windy space as the sounds recure to the glade
Ex terries magi viri ventueus ( From the earth wise man come)
De Terra ego sum terrae (I am of the earth to the earth)