And there the elevator stops
That I am dying at dawn
My childhood dreams goes unleavened
I am kid less!
Yet I own trillion of precious treasures.
You will all cry for me
But, whom will you advise during mourn?
I have nothing to smile about
For remembrance of me
That this latter once existed
Then my worldly
Life was in vain
There is no effort to bring forth another life
This was the creator’s dream
Now that six hours are remaining
Let’s plan for my funeral
And altogether get rid of my wealth
That shows,
My success went fruitless.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem