Give me the last bath
Without soap and water
Put me under the dry soil,
I do not want to drench myself
As I have seen the colour in the tears
Of the clouds on the petals of the flower
Do not lament or send any condolence
Never built over me any grave or epitaph
Forget for ever if possible that my birth is a lie
I have seen the colour of truth, it is not white.
wonderful, you know color of truth is your own skin color, that let the personality you have...color of truth..i just like your words_Soul
really a nice poem about the death and proud nice thank you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
fabulous what a realistic poem, mixture of truth & proud...well witten