My Final Words
This creativity was like stirring living
embers when at seventy-five I tried to
remember
My life and living were all full of flavour
from my village to my present chamber
For many my words may seem just ashes
but to me they’re burning coal
I have lived this presentable life myself
each day and thus spoke my soul
Now a deadly chill comes over me as the
last days of life loom before me
A thousand hearts lay bleeding on the
pavement of this memorial yard you see
The hearts that were bubbling with joy
and peace with fond memories
Now they are weeping and lamenting all
the present with many worries
The pigeons and the birds that were
singing the song of love with pleasure
They are swinging on the branches of dry
trees because they have lost a treasure
This short life is now wasted after the
bitter taste of her sudden departure
My head and heart are now almost
splitting with this unbearable torture
Like a gentleman of doom I am strolling
out without any pleasure
I am desperately looking for my pretty
lotus and her heavenly composure.