O Grave Digger

O Grave-Digger, thy labor is noble,
For thou dost lay the dead to rest beneath the soil.

Without thy toil, the bodies would rot,
Feasted upon by dogs, scattered to the wind.

Without thy hands, the earth would claim no order,
And corpses would lie in decay, unblessed.

No task is more solemn,
O thou noble sentinel of the departed.

With white cloth thou adornest the gravestones,
Even when scorned by those who dwell above,
Yet exalted thou art in the sight of God.

Thou workest only to cleanse the graves,
To bury the dead,
To sanctify the land with holy verses.

Thou must beget an heir,
To continue the sacred charge,
For when thou departest from this mortal coil,
Thy heir shall bear thee to the earth,
And thy work shall endure upon the land.

O Grave-Digger, thy duty is eternal,
A bridge between the living and the departed,
A servant of shadow and sanctity alike.