in this life we're oft found striving
climbing toward wishes, goals
running hither and then thither
urging, surging in our roles
Busy is our uphill journey
spinning, trimming, winning some
stumbling in a skirmish scuffle
then to vanquish, overcome
As one goal has been accomplished
we move on to newer sights
climbing ever grander mountains
of desire's fabled heights
Then one day the road grows dimmer
footsteps weaken, canes appear
hair turns silver, voice a cracking
others pass us as do years
Finally we are too weary
needing help to get around
seldom straying from our doorstep
staying close to hearth and ground
no more crawling high and higher
no more driving toward goals
just some chattering and napping
wondering whose bell now tolls.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem