Unreality of this evening surprises life's meaning and existence.
There are no words or magic solutions to fix a misplaced being
through the years.
Alive, yet downcast throughout empty years on earth.
Stories left untold by parents and grandparents, never able to
be finished because we have not had their experiences.
Our children will also find this same dilemma when we are gone
from sight.
Is this why we are always searching for meaning in our lives
and never finding any?
Is the reason for our mere existence - that of death?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem