the spirits talk
last night about their regrets over
the bodies, neglected by you
look at you
your stomach is bloated your
arms are thin like
stirring rods
your mustache like some uncut
vines in the forest
you stink like a skunk
your lips crack
and your feet are muddy
soon the souls come to the
inevitable conclusion that
they do not deserve such a body
as yours and
you shall know what happens
next
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem