The world goes on
Things so important once
Cease to exist
Or are surrounded by millions of other interesting things
There is too much
Too many good things
And too much choose from
So many of the good things fade
Into near forgotten-ness
And the world goes on enjoying itself
In many others ways
Beside those that were so important once
And now seem to exist
Only for oneself alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem