When I am dead
How do you plan to take me
to the ground floor
from the fourth floor.
Our lift can not carry
a man lying
Our stairs are also
very narrow.
How do you plan
to burry me
How do you take me
to the grave yard
from our parking plots.
We have no lawn or yard
to dress my coffin.
There will be no sunshine
may be some pigeons will be
here and there
with playing children
May be there wii be
some rain
Bins will be there
as usual.
You will bring a small truck
to reach me to grave yard
May be a pigeon will drop
some waste on my forehead.
Our kitchen and windows
will have last glance on me
I shall say
goodbye.
My wet shirts and trousers
on the rope
will raise hands
to say
goodbye.
Finally, you all will
recite
' you came from clay
we return you to the clay'
'My wet shirts and trousers on the rope will raise hands to say goodbye' beautiful poetic humour in these lines brighten up the sad uncertain departure scene...here, i like your this poem best, Ershad...10
from dust we shall all return from dust in its owing time........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wow..........well done