Around the course of life we race,
usually at a gentle trot,
but at times, we go, at a frantic pace.
We jump each hurdle as they come,
some are very difficult,
others are really good fun.
So around, and around the course we go.
Until we come to the biggest hurdle of all,
that no one clears,
the hurdle where everyone falls.
And so we leave this earthly vale,
as off in to paradise we sail.
Tango.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
When the course is run we have been promised paradise so need have no fear of death other than the dying...we can't be kept in a dark grave while filled with God's glow.I Like the lightness in which you wrote about this sensitive and sombre fact of life