Enjoy the sun light,
Wish not the night its time;
The sun its place so bright,
And the universe once more refined.
The present so little to feel.
Through sense perceptions the image's face;
Only imagination to the future still.
Mere memory the past grace.
To time the present is small,
Suffering only a moment occupies.
Memory telling its duration to recall.
And the future its limit supplies.
Pain long lasting, resignation befalls.
In the end ceases with the call.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem