He called his wife and told her that he had tested positive for the virus.
When he got home, she had locked him out of the house.
She told him to stay at a hotel until he was rid of the virus.
He said don't you still love me and she said I love life more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A bit harsh, when you read all the valiant news stories of spouses bravely nursing their sick loved ones back to health. But then again, if he'd infected her, and she died but he recovered, where would he be then? I suppose if he only had a mild case, then a couple of weeks in a hotel isn't so bad...