Beholden I am for mercies
with time which got bestowed
The apportioned fair reality
awards that time has endowed
The ones served on a platter
accepted as destined ordain
For all what was improbable
I didn't once rue to complain
No space for any penitence
leftover window seeming brief
To accept one has at hand
and from it so seek relief
It's inane to pick old shards
in attempt to try and dissect
Present is that lone bridge
to future which will connect
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem