He was digging some others grave
And found somebody was sleeping there
That face resembled his own identity.
Oh! It's another constant bad dream
And he thinks that he went to bed late in midnight
After gulping few glasses of cheap liquor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a sad poem! At a certain stage in life we always begin to realize how very mortal we are. May your future dreams be more positive. Very thought provoking, Nimal. Warmest regards, Sandra