When Evening comes,
We remember morning,
When winter comes, summer
remembered, wonder of wonder.
When pain pinches, pleasure
remembered, plenty in scarcity.
At death door, love for life springs.
Absence of joy, sorrow manages.
' We look before and after and pine
for what is not, our sweetest songs..,
those that tell our sadest thoughts.'
Poet sings pointing human tragedy.
Man ever crazy, never content, what
what has at hand, than one in bush,
dangling carrot held before greedy
mind, making life miserable, himself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem