Some people can wait
Before they die;
They hold for a loved one
To say 'Good-bye.'
To have one more Spring,
Or any Season,
For love or closure,
This we reason.
Now many will leave
This coil of doubt,
'Guilty, ' they heard,
On all thrity-four counts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem