Yet though a man gets many wounds in breast,
He dieth not, unless the appointed time,
The limit of his life's span, coincide;
Nor does the man who by the hearth at home
Sits still, escape the doom that Fate decrees.
He dieth not, unless the appointed time, The limit of his life's span, coincide; There is a time divined by my God. tony
Now how could so many years and centuries of years lie between him and us. He sounds so... current. Maybe... just maybe, mind you... but maybe wisdom is eternal.
....dying is the worst part of life...because i feel there's no good way to die ★
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes! very true. There is span of life which is fixed.