He walks in darkness; the shadows of earth
Who anticipates death; and cherishes birth
He looms over us all; all of our lives
He who is a wielder of all deaths knives
He of which you cannot deny
For here in life we cruelly lie
Is it Death, who we cannot see,
Is it he who may not be
He walks in the light; the rays of the sun
The love of the world; the hate he must shun
He stands in the open; for us to receive
The gift of love in which we all must believe
In a war he sadly sighs
For in hate is our demise
Is it Life, who we cannot see,
Is it he who may not be
He walks on the boarder of love and hate
He who see’s what he wants; denies his fate
He is afraid of living; afraid of dying
Many hours, he spends his life crying
Never always happy; never always sad
But, always changing; the emotions he’s had
It is man, who we can see
It is he who may not be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem