One day,
I may be on the bed of burden
and I will get a short notice
to vacate my own house.
At that time
I may not able to tell them:
smell it,
smell my sweat and blood there.
No ear to listen.
And I may be vulnerable
to reach even an old age home.
So, health is my priority.
If my health is good,
I can even go to the graveyard myself
with a chess board,
to teach death
how to move pawns wisely.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem