I really don't want to die,
Just to become famous.
Wait until last prayers,
Recited over me just to let the world know,
I've got something to say.
Serve as the vase for the lilac and spring lily,
Really don't want to go out that way.
Prefer intellect critiqued ad hoc,
Not in retrospect.
Fame known as the wind is sown,
While my body stands tall and erect.
So are the times, as with the judgement,
Accolades shown I'll finally be known,
In the great uncharted hereafter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem