In the house there is; 
The dinner table we are so used to 
sit, muse, get some nutrition out of it.
A lot of memories hangs around, like pictures 
in each nook and corners, 
but who is going first? 
I wish, I wish it 'll be me
So that I don't have to miss
I don't have to be alone
I don't have to meddle.
I don't ponder anymore.
Without me, what are you going to do? 
With your smartness, I am sure you know how to live on.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    