Be the one to be the coffin’s fun,
Buried under the wooden lid of love,
Buried forever and ever like deadly wishes.
My mother has prayed that I command
Those above me, and master the souls
Who try to overtake me in their slumber.
Be the one to be death’s uncle,
Author of the incredible book of old,
Licking the pages with the fingers.
One life dissolves, one admires the lives
Of the lovers who dance and pray
Forever in union with heavenly splendours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem