Walk away and become a fugitive
Numberless roads are without number
Every its need to consider attributive
Once was its today and summer
Many today’s are not for to now
But for the future to be more beyond
History is not lost in its kowtow
Just more in its way to correspond
Instances of old so full of grace
Proper in position to grasp and hold
Times in control of many ways
As present is aged and fresh to unfold
That which is fitting in this all still
More wishing and doing to belong
Point in possession take and fulfill
Some of its equitable and making strong
Time is always here to walk away
Give of its instances till it will die
Meeting ambitions making them stay
Reaching a spot where each path lie
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem