Life is long
Filled with narrow roads
With shortcuts leading nowhere or somewhere
If only we could follow the narrow roads
To authority and power
To riches and fame
Be the few who make an honest, good living
The men who die after living happy
But for the those men who take the shortcuts
They who suffer each and every day
Then die without without faith and without actually living
Let those men live, just those men, live again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow, i find myself writing to who guessed it, myself. I think you can improve Ronald, u must find your own advice cause no one on this site likes to comment on anything.