All things in life are fleeting, with nothing set in stone,
For everything that starts must inevitably come to its own.
The sky above, once blue and gay,
May now be shrouded in clouds, all sullen and grey.
Rain falls from the heavens, pelting the earth below,
A torrential downpour, oft times tumbling to and fro.
But fear not, dear soul, for the storm shall soon abate,
Leaving in its wake, a world all bright and great.
Such is life's transience, a forever-changing state,
One moment in the sun, the next in thirst's cruel fate.
Like leaves that flutter and falter in the wind,
Our experiences too, come to a halt, a life-cycle end.
Riches and fame, what are they but fleeting hills,
Whose ascent we may fancy, but whose decline we must feel?
And time, oh time, our constant companion and friend,
Whose relentless march takes us to journeys' end.
But do not let this leave you melancholy and sad,
For every end is but a beginning, a tick in the eternal cad,
And so let us embrace the fleeting moments of lives,
For in the memories that we make, our immortality thrives.
In the end, everything we see, feel, and touch,
Will wane and fade away, for such is life's touch.
But in the memories that we leave and the love that we share,
Our essence lingers, forevermore, in the world with care.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem