On the last journey of this earthly life
nothing material can you take with you,
only your good deeds, heavenly shelter,
will endure in the transit to the heavenly plane.
The body is to remain in this worldly valley
which the earth rules, but the soul in calmness
will travel with its baggage, the subtle palm
Of memories treasured in its sensitive bosom.
In a light suitcase goes the sweet memory
of joys and sorrows, all the history
that was your existence, ephemeral and weak.
You will take the road without human company,
only illuminated by your works of pious light,
that will illuminate the eternal and placid incumbency.
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There is reasonable evidence that this poem is machine-generated.
We would appreciate it if you could avoid publishing AI-generated content (full or partial texts, art, etc.).
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