When I am no more
Don't when the eyes, its beauty not behold
Don't when the nose, the sweet fragrance not scent
Don't when the hands, the soft petals not feel
Don't when the heart, its gratitude not render
Don’t when it a grave adorns and not a room
Don't when the sand the vase becomes
Send roses while I live
While the eyes behold
And the nose scents
While the hands feel and the heart gratifies
Send roses for the vase
Not the grave
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