Lying upon the stretcher perhaps fog clogs your eyes Don't worry, death is not another unjust light; How come then so many people embrace death, craving a torch like flying ants? Why would then men compose so many slokas to make a ladder to the heaven? Death today; but did not the matador die in Spain? He fought like a hero in the sunlight thinking himself undefeatable Suddenly he plunged into an eternal night. Yet a Haryal Verily a Bengal bird accepts death as the row of bullets appears like a horizon. Yet we embrace day-light like an alcohol dealer Fill in the goblet; - It seems compass, seas, sunlight Life in effect wiser than death. They are dead; crumpled between layers of the earth. Still life gobbles up sun spots - privately like a sun.