Backyard

Poor you…
Sleeping nicely on the ground
Hopelessly and helplessly.
Who will bring you back to see
what your priced tent has become?
That you gave your blood to that soul
That needed it badly for survival;
Now see, it’s become coagulated.

That you gave your kidney to that precious soul to save it;
How you have been rubbed your entrails.
How you spent so much to tidy up this tent,
Should not this last eternally?
How now your body has become a stinking sheet
Ready to be discarded.

I’ve been to the house of mourning
To see the dead nicely asleep,
With no more envy or friendship to worry about,
No more emotions running wild.
I see the dead smiling as though nicely dead.
Seen the living weeping, wailings cutting through,
Shrieks in the middle of the night emanate and terminate.

Listen, the mourning is to the good of the living;
The body lying on the ground
Is a pointer to the end of the living--
A time of reflection for all.
But the dead, be happy for him,
His journey in this miserable world is ended.
But who knows where he’ll end up?