The weary traveller stopped in front of an old house,
It looked weird throughout,
The door was open,
The traveller entered the house;
"Who is the owner of this house? " he asked loudly,
But nobody responded,
Again he asked it and the same thing happened.
Being very frustrated the man shouted,
"Everybody is dead and silent here,
It's a dead world, "
Immediately he heard an echo,
"We are not dead,
We are alive, very much alive in this realm
And more living and sensible than your world."
The traveller was utterly stunned,
He felt the profound meaning of the words
And his vanity was brutally ruined.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem