The body lay there in the room
With flies and people buzzing
The pale face looked indifferent
Tomorrow it will go down
Into the bowels of the earth.
Yesterday night he was busy
Searching for a quick-fix solution
To his life's problems in the
Froth of the golden yellow brew.
The body had a fatal hunger
Just like the woman in its life.
Scoops of dust settled on the coffin
It had no complaints about life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem