Death Poetry I can see the girl Water girl Being in the Medina Cleared my bones Lu Hua, such as a bunch of bones Put him back in boxes I can see Clean river girl girl Please hand out among the wheat When I did not want to sit in a bunch Wheat on the home Please tidy up my messy bones Into a small wooden cabinet. Bring it back Back to you as rich dowry But do not tell me Leaning on the wood is airing the hay Mother.