I
When the weather is cold,
we yearn for warmer climes.
When it’s blazing and sultry,
we like to flee onto cooler peaks.
When we live in arid zones,
we envy those in the rainy terrain.
Those lashed with hail and rain,
long for dry and sunnier realms.
Rural folk are charmed by towns and cities,
Urbanites itch for sylvan and serene country side.
Those working by day,
set their sights on nocturnal pleasures.
Those slogging in the nights
dream of diurnal dynamics.
We tend to wish for what we don’t have;
Desire for what we don’t have is natural.
II
Now then…
The haves have oodles of money,
yet they covet for more and more.
A glutton gorges every grub around,
still hungers to gobble up much before it dissolves.
Bladdered are the boozers,
yet they revel to wallow in vats of spirits.
We aren’t satiated with the glut we have;
We crave to amass, and devour more and more.
What should we call this?
What’s this orectic oddity?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lusts of life can blind the very best - meekness is life