i will do it a million times
coming back just to get a feel of
the last seconds of death -
the bliss, the joy, the giving up
of the seconds and the minutes
and be unframed - the total freedom of existence -
waiting for the day when they can charge you a fee
just to have a fling with death, take you into it till
you get to its sacred sanctuary, its hidden unspoken luxury
then let go to take you back again for drudgery
leaving death like the slippers at the door forever
accommodating and spacious enough to transport you
leisurely into places of your imagination
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem