This body must decay and die.
I look at these arms, these legs,
The smell of my body,
Perhaps for the last time, everytime.
I awoke as if from a deep sleep.
A jolt of bells,
A bolt of light.
I looked at my hands in fear and wonder.
Adieu! Sweet fingers,
Farewell! Fond thumbs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem