A pathway to death,
A certain way to hell.
But you dance with glee,
And watch your star go dim.
You're certain of regret,
Returning thoughts of the dances
And the missing chances
To make things right,
Fills your heart with sorrow,
Makes you hate tommorow.
Along this path,
You find it hard
To live in the dark
As you do in the light.
Along this way,
It feels like climbing a hill of crutches
To live in the day
As you do in the night.
It's hard to keep the great art
Given by the heavenly artist.
On this path,
You give swords and thorns
To the ones you love
Love and roses,
To the ones draining love's strength,
The ones who smile at you
But tear you to pieces
In the depth of their heart.
Along this path,
You hold on to empty bottles
With all your strength,
A time of thirst will come,
You hope to drink from a bottle.
On this path,
The empty bottles pull you
Like beautiful tombstones,
The attraction takes the light of your body and soul.
On this path,
The goldfield seems like a wasteland,
You fail to find the strength
To dig into depths
That hold the wealth you seek,
Because you never thought of its need.
If you ever walk,
If you ever crawl,
Even if you fall
On this path,
Strive to get the strength,
Strive to do your best
To say goodbye
To this path.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem