The Death
I would not like to die in winter
When earth is frozen and will not take a spade
They will dig a shallow grave
Bury me in a coffin without a blanket
Then go inside and sit by the fire
Perhaps they will wrap me in canvas put me on
The hey-loft till spring
And collect my old age pension during the cold season
I don`t mind that
Soft soil and flowers on the ground
Dig deep, and I will be a part of spring
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem