A Request To The Dead

I offer this water to you, my father, grandfather and great grandfather, and to you, soldiers and generals who fought for us and who fought against us and who were killed by this war. I stand here, on this battlefield, and give this water and this rice to you— you must be hungry and thirsty. Ask for nothing other than water and rice, don't add to the long list of things I was not able to give; be content with this water and this rice and return to wherever you came from. Consider this: the years I have spent with you were many; and this: it will not be long before I join you wherever you sojourn. Had I possessed things other than this water and this rice, would I have denied them to you and asked you to return ? Whatever I have other than this water and this rice are surely not appropriate offerings for departed souls. True, I traverse everyday of my life with this baggage of witheld things, but whenever I look at them I disintegrate and cry out with a voice that rends the heavens and the underworld. Tears fill my eyes when I make this offering of water and rice. I know, when my turn comes, I shall have neither. Look, the sun has almost set. Now, go back to wherever you came from with the little water and the little rice I gave you. Look, I myself do not have either any water or any rice. Look, I have nothing except the few things I didn't give and kept with myself. [Translated by the poet]