They live in you, you live in them;
They are your thought;
You—their destination.
They are your blood,
Your floods and hurricanes,
Your nirvana and hell—
The voice of a multitude.
The voice of those without a voice,
Of the lost and forgotten,
Of the deaf and silent.
Warriors and saints.
Great and weak,
Emperors and beggars;
They have everything and own nothing,
They are the makers of your dream.
They are Masters and you, the slave;
They, the slaves, rule the Master.
They serve you by living your life,
They are the guardians of your dream.
They are your hands and eyes,
Your light and pleasure,
Your fire and growth,
Explosions that burn to conquer the night.
They are alive and they are dead,
They are awakened and asleep,
They make love and they kill,
They are made to live in your own mind.
They are your life and your dream,
A prayer and reason to be
A cheerful voice in the sad night.
Our children are all of those things that you so poetically mention, and more.......... They are everything........
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Children of hope. Very Very inspiring poem with philosophical undertones. It defines life in a way. Thanks. This goes into MyPoemList.