What destination
I am rushing towards, taking my heels?
Is it towards those which are only shadows
Being with me talking, smiling and enjoying
The things that are nothing but noting
When I am crying
The sun comes only to extreme point
For I have to wait again
Chasing those shadows
Till the sun set down
They say
It is the town of wild life
I am created with so many legs and hands
To run and run with no end.
Let anybody spit upon my face and go
I don't care
I am now in a coffin with lid not yet closed
My corpse is smelled with incense sticks
With flowers made of papers
There are relatives and friends ready to pay tribute
Saying goodbyes.
Let crows wait to pull out my eyes
And so the dogs to pull me out and tear out
my dead body out of the grave
Yet what it is it all!
Look yonder my grief mingled
with drop by drop trickling into the ocean
and the waves take them up with wind
and roar
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem