Pops

Friends, Rwandans, countrymen, lend me your horns;

I come to remember Pops, not to annoy him.

The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their midriffs;

So let it be with Pops. The unselfish Cinderella

Hath told you Pops was happy:

If it were so, it was a grievous fault,

And grievously hath Pops answer’d it.

Here, under leave of Cinderella and the rest–

For Cinderella is a proud woman;

So are they all, all proud women–

Come I to speak in Pops’s funeral.

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