For Death I do not worry,
For I have nothing to fear from him.
He waits idly by a wonderful door,
With a gentleman's tuxedo,
As if he were ushering somewhere,
Like a very kind gentleman.
Yet, I am not exactly ready for him,
For I am not ready to join
Him in his company,
For there is something I have left
To do here-
Something I cannot understand-
But it's here nonetheless.
And so, I decide to stay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
something I have left To do Death can wait for this. Nicely said. Thank you.