True happiness
Is not how rich men are;
One falls not into slumber, worrying
With much money, mansion and car.
Real contentment
Is measured not by greatness;
Fame from hard work made
Is in vain or useless.
Genuine joy
Is gauged not by wisdom one gains;
The more knowledge abounds,
The greater it pains.
Transient delight
Means not even a single thing;
One has been chasing the wind,
Nothing but trouble it does bring.
Life's felicity
Is but temporal, abrupt and brief;
It does quickly fade away,
And is often cut short by grief.
Fix your eyes
On God's greatest promise;
The holy city of no aches and tears,
In the land of sheer bliss.
The new heaven and the new earth,
The paradise of righteousness;
Perfectly prepared for our complete
And lasting happiness.
It's inspiring and heartwarming write, Bernard.....................
The holy city of no aches and tears! ! ! ! ! ! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
True happiness Is not how rich men are; One falls not into slumber, worrying With much money, mansion and car. An inspirational poem, sir Bernard.