When I die, she told me
I would like to lie surrounded
By pious and loved souls
I hate oblivion, she said
I don’t want to lie isolated
As if I never existed
I don’t want to be hid away
As if I were scourged
But remember, she goes on
Nobody need not mourn me
I want no tears
To wet my peaceful abode
I need no sorrow
To blemish my happiness
Plant pines
For the birds to perch on
I want to hear their songs
I want prayers to reach me
As you meditate near me
I want to hear your laughter
As you glimpse through our mirth
Lastly, she says as if in a dream
My epitaph ought to read;
She laughed when she could
She loved even when she shouldn’t
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem