Like drifting clouds we all are,
From the past to this day;
There are reasons like peace and war,
For what we do and what we say.
Come together for this age,
All will be here soon in the past;
What you have you got in wage,
So its time will come to last.
Wrong or right you may be,
That is not the question here;
For the coming ages are to see,
Where will it stand all from there.
Enjoying things for right or wrong,
You will soon not ish which is yours;
Please enjoy contemporary song,
And their picks of assorted flowers.
Same I say to all the poems new,
You either give or give not enough;
To make a bouquet of colored few,
Times are elegant or crudely rough.
Nothing here to pull out or provoke,
Only vegetables that you know;
Large and small some that'll choke,
As the times will come and go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem