Cowards of many times,
We live in hope and fear
Between two eternities.

We live a death outside
A body, watch its dread
Lead a body to its death.

Death comes and goes,
In  its intensive bulletins,
And stays at a midnight.

We are now no cowards
By an intensive bulletin.
There are others after us.

(Remembering W.B.Yeats poem “Death”)

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