The finest cemetery in town
Festooned with distant flashing lights
Changing colours like the chameleon's skin
Will sit today on the feathered seat of time
And tread the blood-red carpet,
Will today spread its mat for mobile coffins
As fellow corpses honour this invitation
The chief-seats for the chief-corpses,
Let the servant-corpses sit on stools:
All corpses are equal
But some coffins are more beautiful than others
It's my birthday, eat and be merry;
Come near, corpses, and let's celebrate our folly!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem