Travnatom stezom živi se šeče,

Čita na bregu grobne kamene,

Groblje navabi živog kaj skrene,

Mrtev ni jeden dojti več neče.

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Vers na kamenu ovak je pisal:

„Denes živ čitaš, al’ kaj buš znal,

Se dok si živ, na put se buš dal,

A zutra buš mrtev i tu buš stal.”

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Mramor o smrti z ufanjem piše,

A zna da časa prešlo je više,

Nigdo ni mrtev na groblje zašel.

Kakvu je čovek zadršku našel?

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Najbole da se kamenu reče:

Hmiranje je čoveku prežmefko,

Zato več nigdar hmirati neče.

V tu bi laž kamen veroval lefko.

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The living come with grassy tread

To read the gravestones on the hill;

The graveyard draws the living still,

But never any more the dead.

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The verses in it say and say:

“The ones who living come today

To read the stones and go away

Tomorrow dead will come to stay.”

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So sure of death the marbles rhyme,

Yet can’t help marking all the time

How no one dead will seem to come.

What is it men are shrinking from?

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It would be easy to be clever

And tell the stones: Men hate to die

And have stopped dying now forever.

I think they would believe the lie.