Tremendous distress slashes through my mortifying memories,
Classic epitaphs creeping into my dreams; scattering when I wake.
People with their snarling humor, viciously reporting my hysterics to one another.
Afraid of the thunder, but my troublesome dignity won’t let me scream.
I shall be buried electrically with the thunder, which is frighteningly vigorous in its pursuit of me.
Pace your vicious reports of my ingenious burial.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem