The great stalwart is lying dead,
He is still and silent, absolutely silent,
People surround him and cry in extreme grief;
They stand in utter disbelief that
The great man is no more,
Death, the unavoidable truth of life, has snatched him forever,
The energetic and spirited man will not come back again.
It's strange that yesterday he was moving like a king and roaring like a lion,
But today he is dead, a lifeless soul, waiting for his last rites only;
Life is so precious and yet so trivial at the end,
Hard to believe its utility at all.
After some times hisearthly body will be completely wiped out,
It's only his deeds which will remain alive,
People will read those in the famous book,
That will be everything of him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem