Just yesterday, in my veranda,
With my immediate younger sister,
Conversing about the sudden death
Of one of my gentle uncles
That was just few months away.
But today, so swiftly it came to me
The news, “oh death, another uncle? ”
Shock and tears, simultaneously.
“Is this happening to me again? ”
Unconsciously I remembered, almost the same.
The same Saturday morning,
Almost the same time,
No electrical power!
The same accident leading to death.
What a tragic recurrence.
Behold the struggles of tomorrow
Like that of a defeated wrestler,
To read its account in a scroll
About those to dangle their souls.
As each day passes by,
The graves also get nearer.
These I remember then I tremble
Like a mountain about to crumble.
Wealth, shelter, clothing are not worth
Nor goat, nor sheep, nor cow, nor horse.
Name your demands oh death!
For the world is ready to give.
The sun is shinning for me to make hay.
Because, it might be soon, it might be late
The scroll is long but who is next?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem