to reach
72
is a feat,
sorrows have
been buried
in the forehead
grief eaten like
green sour mangoes to
delight
how many misfortunes?
can happy pieces equal the
sad ones?
Grandpa, you are lucky.
You have aged.
Fine wine
Sweetest to the taste buds
of God.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem