Poem written during the plague epidemic in 1800.

 

I found it fit for the moment, the beauty of this poem written 2 centuries ago.

′′ When the storm passes,

the roads get torn up,

And we are survivors

of a collective wreck,

With the tearful heart

and destiny blessed

We will feel blessed

Just by being alive.

And we will give a hug to the first unknown

And praise the luck of keeping a friend.

And then we will remember everything we lost and at once we will learn everything we have not learned.

We will no longer be envious for all suffered.

We will no longer have a hardened heart

We will all be more compassionate.

It will be worth more what is from everyone than what I never could.

We will be more generous

And much more committed

We will understand how fragile we are, and what we are

means to be alive!

Let's feel empathy for who is and who is gone.

We will miss the old man who asked for handouts in the market, who we never knew the name and was always by our side.

And maybe the poor old man was God in disguise...

But you never asked his name

Because I was in a rush...

And everything will be a miracle!

And everything will be a legacy

And the life we earn will be respected!

When the storm passes

I ask God, with sadness,

May you make us better.

how you ′′ us ′′ dreamed.

(K. O ' Meara - Poem written during the plague epidemic in 1800)