Wait…I will walk in a slow pace,
Do not ask me to scuttle into a race.
A fight between your master and doctors
Makes me all too weak. I cannot move faster.
Wait…I will see my corpse around,
How all hug it with loud aggrieved screams
I never knew I was so dear!
How many times I bowed to their rudeness!
Wait….I will enjoy colleagues whisper
Asking for lift with eyes faking tears.
Strange is our character!
They never knew…friends they never knew
Wait…I will hear notes of commiseration,
After death many a sweet-worded appreciation!
This adoration after so many allegations.
Oh Death, tell your Master.
‘Give all of them good sense faster.
And honour the deserving and the suitable'
Being known in life-time is what I longed…
What all of us yearn for…..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Being known! ! With the muse of death being part of us. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.