Oh! Be it death
The sojourner of sorrow
The red serpent
The slayer of born and unborn life
The terminator of dreams
The destroyer of fission
Death be it!
You have no friend nor foe
You take no bribe, nor feel shy of any living being
You lay your hand on king, likewise the slaves
You lay your hand on old, likewise the young's
As you killed the wealthy one's, so you did to the poorer
No one dare to question your handy-work
Be it death
Don, t lay your cold hand on me
Cause, I have drank the fruits of life
Surpass me and go on your way
For I have more life to live
The unquestionable being
Be go, on your unfinished quest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem