MY father and mother are dead,
Nor friend, nor relation I know;
And now the cold earth is their bed,
And daisies will over them grow.
I cast my eyes into the tomb,
The sight made me bitterly cry;
I said, 'And is this the dark room,
Where my father and mother must lie?'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem