Life
Lets nothing last.
Leaving souls to live
Like chalk drawings
Left out in the storm.
Lonely drops on
Lovely works;
Leaving only murky
Lakes of faded color where
Livelihood once took place.
Life vanishes where those
Lucid puddles lay...
...Leaving no pictures perfect
down Memory Lane.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love this poem! You've made it so easy to envision these chalk drawings being washed out, and it's a perfect metaphor for life and its end, as inevitable as the rain. Thanks for sharing :)