Let me fall under some natural-disaster
the eye of a storm picks up the hereafter.
Be felled as if by a random act of god,
let my ashes be sprinkled over the sod.
Be mingled with the waters-ever-present
in the driest desert, moister is-permeated,
it intersperses with the sands and the stars
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem