At one's early age
when one needs money
to run his life, household,
to keep pace with the
fast life to adorn him,
for his own interest,
he doesn't have much.
He grows old and fighting
with the oddities of life
he earns for his family
and dear ones.
But, oh! he then becomes
prey of several diseases,
his old and weary body
doesn't allow him to
walk more and grab more.
He has money
which he hanker after,
chased throughout
his struggling life.
He has then money,
but for little use.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem