Death's the comfiest place
You could retire to,
After all the strife,
Like bed's the softest place
After a hard day's life.
But dreams, they can be wild.
Containing all the past,
All the future too,
Death must be a wild, wild place
You must retire to.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ultimately and in humanities unison voice there is so little alternate choice.