You won't get it.

Well, it's because you should know Rejto and his work, his style and view of the world.

Then it's because I ain't a poet nor a professional translator, and because this was just fast-translated (1 minute worth) for Coliflower of Australia just to show what about it.

Then, heck, I can't even translate its Title, which is a play with words itself. I'm trying...

So I apologise to Rejto (who has frozen to death on the 1st January of 1943 at age 37), apologise to the reader (you) and those feel offended.

...the original is my favourite, after all.

Rejto Jeno: Crying Epitaph

Who fidgets here silently
Was a writer and departed to this life
Died for 36 years
Lived for some days
And if he thinked: just dreamed some pages
And when they laughed at him
He thought he was amusing
Now he lies here in the grave
On his green skull the germs appear
And he dreams that he lives
Poor man.
Peace to his ashes.
(Rejtô Jenô)

[1905. március 29. - 1943. január 1.]