Life is an orbit
On which its menu revolve
Each menu bears a fate lot.
When chosen its contents evolve.
By birth we join the circle.
From the menu, better to make a good choice
So, as to have a life not feeble
Or frailly swim in a bad choice.
Choose not on surface but deeply,
Think twice on a decision seat,
Reject not for poorly
But suspect future which is fit.
In the circle treat all right,
For what goes circlet comes circlet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem