What destination
I am rushing  towards, taking my heels? 
Is  it towards those which are only shadows
Being with me talking, smiling and enjoying
The things that  are nothing but noting 
When I am crying
The sun comes  only to extreme point
For I have to wait again 
Chasing those shadows 
Till the sun set down
They say
It is the town of  wild life 
I am created with so many  legs and hands
To run and run with no end.
Let anybody spit  upon my face and go
I don't  care
I am now in a coffin with lid not yet closed
My corpse is smelled with incense  sticks
With flowers made of papers
There are relatives and friends ready to pay tribute
Saying goodbyes.
Let crows wait to pull out my eyes
And so the dogs to pull me out and tear out
my dead body out of the grave  
Yet what it is it  all! 
Look  yonder my grief mingled 
with  drop by drop trickling into the ocean
and the waves take them up with wind
and roar                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    