If all things were made,
The heaven, and the earth we promenade
They are made to decay,
It may take long, but come what may,
They'd end, I heard, by fire
When all the elements retire.
I know it will come,
That day will come
When everything would be on their back
And days would turn dark.
In all these, I have just one desire:
To sit and watch and admire
The entire show, and not participate
Or share in their fate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem