The Stories which lie concealed carefully under the dust of secrecy,
I hope you never find any fingers which shall impure the ugly/beautiful yet pure essence of yours.
May you travel from that dust to the grave,
Like the rivers meet the oceans.
'Every storyteller has a story,
Every story doesn't have a storyteller'
I have no whatsoever interest in changing the course of that world order,
As I've always given the mask of laziness to the self-centred psyche of mine.
May you die a less painful death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem