old lady
you have accumulated much
more than what you need
tomorrow is your
death time
you shall leave all these
greed stuff
no one will touch them
no one will have them
the wooden part will be eaten by termites
some shall rot under the rain
others shall become more rigid and useless under the sun
the rest shall be taken by the state
and they who are your children shall laugh at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem