It will not matter one bit to me where my last remains will lay
Or whether I am cremated or left to naturally decay
Under the ground of some cemetery where-ever that may be
My journey will be over then and all of the same to me
Even if I die tomorrow I will die satisfied
That though I never became a poet to become one my best I tried
Shackled by our limitations the winners in life are rare
And of our limitations we all should be aware
Mine is not a false modesty I mean it when I say
That I am a poetaster and though I pen stuff every day
To such I am addicted with words I love to play
Like I say no false modesty I see myself in that way
If I should die tomorrow I will have found my lasting peace
And from the cares of living my eternal release.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem