Here I am, speaker of a dying tongue
It lives in me
Sleeps with me, dreams with me, bleeds when I do
And will die, when I do
I am a precious man
More precious than children have ever been
Just as precious as the last piece of bread will be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good start with a nice poem, Chetan. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.