Author: Rupert Brooke
If I die, please remember my words:
Somewhere in the foreign field
That's England forever. There will be.
In that fertile land, there are more abundant dust hidden;
The dust brought by England, molded, conscious,
Once, give her the flowers of love, the way she roams;
The body of England, breathing the air of England.
Washed by the river and blessed by the sunshine in my hometown,
Think about it, this heart, all the evil has disappeared,
A pulse in the eternal mind
Return the ideas given by England to a place;
Her sight and voice; Dreams are as happy as her day;
And laughter, learned from friends; And tenderness,
In a quiet heart, under the paradise of England.