All things must crumble to the soil some day,
The wind carrying it to a diff’rent place;
The mighty seas erode the land and bay;
Every man has to senility face!
All mountains, hills could flatten to be plains,
And plains may rise up as mounts overnight;
Someday, one must suffer too diff’rent pains;
Despite the Sun, man could lose much sunlight.
But actions could have bad repercussions;
We must think of the aftermath always;
Lasting peace comes only by discussions;
The face of earth- let not man ev’r efface.
All things ought to but naturally decay;
The Universe heeds to the Maker’s say.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem