In the quiet corner of my mind,
I want a plain substandard coffin,
Wide enough to contain my wishes of more livelier offing,
A much more humbled prospect; a faultless unadulterated vision.
I want a bare but pure funeral,
An ordinary unembellished service,
With a short funeral hymn to rest my body in the know of mine,
Perfect words worded perfectly into the fit painted by another Kline.
So when the cries of the remnants of Leteng bong,
Goaded by emotions so strong, hum a little song,
A short funeral hymn to rest my body in the know of mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem