As the days pass by
There is nothing left to buy
The days and nights nicely spent on
The life is nearly enjoyed and won
No hard feelings as it will be over soon
The scorching heat may be felt in noon
All may be leaving you one by one
You may be bearing pain all alone
The spring may be over
Soon autumn may provide the cover
There will be disappearance of old
As they may not have power to hold
The final place is called grave
Will have to be faced by coward or brave
No memory will be left to save
The God has taken it back on promise when gave
The body has shape from the clay
It was taken as toy to play
It is taken back when utility is over
We are back to fold forever
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem