When the laughter has ended
And the last snake has tended
The dirt of my burial ground
And a wreath has been planted
To be shaken and candid
While I'm flaking and tattered and sound,
Asleep with cold kisses,
A part of me misses
The humor in me God found.
Then when I can't wither
Because of the river
Caused by creeping rain deep diving,
I'll lay numb and bloating
With a heavy heart floating.
They left cracked my coffin- I'm dying.
They rushed me to rest
Without even one test
To see if I was still capable of crying.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem