Silent they lay
Petterson, Mckay, Robbinson, London,
As grave stones tell their rank and age
They march on
Stone after stone for hundreds of meters
Some put together, some unidentified
The trees shadow the graves
The bushes scent the place and color it
Red, green, black, yellow
Birds perch on the marble memorial
A cross, way up high, with black tips
As the years pass by, the trees grow,
The bushes flow over in which over time,
Will grow over every grave
And will turn it all into one big mound,
Forever will the heroes of Alamein lay
Under a green mound like kings in the old days
And forever will they lay, under the green carpet
Surrounded by the desolate grey of the desert
The last thing they’ll see, yet the least thing they’ll lay
For it will always be green in the cemetery of Alamein
Let them rest in peace
For that is what they achieved
Let us seek peace, as we look at the heroes of Alamein
Peace be unto you, and peace be unto them.