I know I will die on a cold winter morning.
Winter withers me so it’s only fair that
I believe my well worn weathered body
Will wilt on such a day.
Wrap me well, warmly.
It’s the least you can do for a tropical wench
Who died in a witheringly cold world.
I will require my flask with me,
My pen of course, and yes, my fufu stick.
I will come back to haunt you
If you forget my hoe and my cane.
If my teeth have fallen out,
Put them under my head.
I’ll still need them to laugh wildly
Even in my forever sleep.
Don’t forget to write on my tombstone,
‘She died laughing’.
People who visit my tomb
Must know that, even though
Laughter is the best medicine,
This old wench still died laughing.
[Courtesy of the author]
Link to the Italian translation