Finalizing plans thought about in younger days,
singularly pointing to more useful categories of youth.
Mistaken tokens of vibrant processes, beginning from
time immemorial.
Lifting interior spirits with joyful glee and spirituality,
aspiring silently, growing fruitfully until ends of time
put a stop, abruptly to it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem