Feeling tired,
The old man goes to bed
His bones ache and his body is sore
He closes his eyes to get some sleep
The next day, his family is weeping
And his kin are mourning.
He fell asleep but is to never awake.
His family take him to the meadow of the dead
Here he will have his final rest in his final bed made of wood and dirt
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem