Who you grew with, who you lived with
And who you worked with are all gone or invalid,
Outdated or scattered, and no longer near you.
Who are near you are new to you,
knowing no merit of your past.
You live with an image having no image.
Yes, it is prelude as to what is after one’s death.
05.01.2003
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem