The air-wafted smells brought me
The smells of putrefaction
Sweet putrefaction, my mother!
You whose son put forth Immortality
Now suffer and partake not of
What others in the future get.
The Spring pity-taking now arises
And blossoms sweet odors counteracting
The air-wafted smells of putrefaction
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem