There is a rebirth in Nature,
After Winter's Death,
Summer doth possess,
The seeds of Life.
But for Us, nothing as final as death,
They say you live on in your children,
But what if you have no children?
What if you have never learned to love?
Immortality is so far above,
Everything that has to do with us,
We are only dust, some of us, thinking dust,
And the Mystery of Life is so Unjust!
From Dawn, the time we're born, to bitter Dusk
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
From ashes to ashes and dust to dust - but does the soul live on? A question which man has been asking since he was able to think. Thought-provoking Sandra.