One may as well play a victim,
lone persona being wronged
When choices were always open
and pickings multiple pronged
Remorse and fraught penitence
would prove hopelessly in vain
The end would stand worthless
against otherwise blissful gain
Never late is to accept a folly
and willfully make an amend
Mighty oak too gets uprooted,
to gales when doesn’t bend
Past can never be undone
or what future might beget
Present directs the imminent
to be cheery or in state regret
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem