Old worlds mend,
When new nations grow;
Some leaves bend,
When a new plant grows.
Some lovers die,
When new are born;
Some hearts are broken,
When new are made;
Some memories are torn,
When new are saved;
Some heroes die,
When new are born.
Hopeless to think,
Of ones you lost,
Heart’s now torn,
A few more weeps;
And all will be gone.
Stop those newly born;
Don’t let them rip, each other’s heart,
Or another conflict will start;
Leaving nothing but, ashes apart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem