The immortals envy the living
They envy every breathe, every flesh, every mortality of ours
For being immortal can tire a soul
Things never get more beautiful or better for them
Neither does it get worse
But for the mortals, things could go the other way,
Either for good or bad
This, in itself, is a gift the immortals crave
It has been said that a times, they take the form of mortals
To pleasure themselves or accomplish a divine assignment
It has also been said that they, a times, require the sacrifice of mortals
So, never be in too much hurry to become immortal
Mortality is a gift, enjoy it!
Immortality, an inevitable curse
Your time as a mortal is limited, maybe 15 or 100 years
But as an immortal, you have eternity!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really enjoyed your poem ignoring the fact that you do away with local (african) imageries because i enjoy african poets to make use of the divese available african imageries to spice up thier poetry. This is a nice piece