spring is a precious gift
the blessing of a flower
but winter ends its blush
and robs it of its power
for life can never last
be it a man or beast
a king or wretched serf
the mighty or the least
the seasons come and go
the planets turn in space
the universe is dust
within a moment's grace
and love's a living thing
so love must also die
it fades away like dusk
into a darkened sky
so we may shed a tear
beside the humble grave
of everything we loved
that we can never save
but tears will be forgone
along with ecstasy
when every heartbeat ends
that is our destiny
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well, at least it's not our turn yet.. iip
Ya never know though.