Burial ground

a poem by Bahadur Basha Gooty

My little well on the east side
North West has Kovvhervu Mogalay Lake
Look at Cemetery, fully with flute flowers and rosewood

Graveyard became more holy with our ancestors bodies
There is no rent to live
No work tensions
Hunger has never thought for suffering
No diet is needed to maintain body
There will be no fraud
Family captives are absent here
My last stop is to the cemetery

I need to talk with our elders
In the sky I will be merged
I will log into the altar
Let our lake pass through me
Always I have to go swimming in the lake water
The rest of life, I sleep only in burial ground