I must be gone one day, my dear
I will be challenged by the heaven.
On that day the night will not lighten
The world will be praying the Qoran.
The cold eyes of the orphanage.
No one will love me as you do
The virtue will stay, shocked
The death is not the last road, so,
Your tolerance will end up, my darling,
By tearing out your soul's knitting.
I will not fear from death, never,
But I'm afraid of your tears, running.
The comer is subject to leave this world.
Alas, the death is not the last road.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem