Like times and memories,
All things must fall or rust;
Our way and our abilities,
To fate we all must intrust.
Stay otherwise not known,
For all life moves here on;
Each separate road's alone,
Self searching phenomenon.
Carry your fire from inside,
Which follows the days ahead;
Your existence will coincide,
From what in the future's read.
Night is the gown of life,
Where day from sleep shall rise;
Weaving all hope and strife,
Within the time that flies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem