And so what?
You are dead
Were killed in a snap
Then…you were squashed,
It is same if buried, or, if burned
If based on a custom, ritual; if praised
Or crushed in machine or under, feet or car
You remind guardian of old mosque
Saved and saved; to last day, and breath
No friends…no one cared…
No funeral…
Prayers did their best…till later
Came sister, nieces and the nephews
The ones who kept distance.
Howard Hughes action-wise
They came when it became clear…
He had house; had money
Under rugs he hid the bills, coins
That caused fight…
“It is mine! ! ! ”
Time passed and he is gone
No grave with stone
His wealth long divided
And he is forgotten.
So is same,
If buried, or if burned
Or even, if butchered.
And so what?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem