Come I would must oneday
From this shadow that holds
My name in its darkness;
Plays games with all brutality;
I will be washed with water
From majestic Himalayas
And chant hymns recited by
Ageless sages sitting on snow;
The dusk will not hold me;
And dawn can’t forsake me;
Those flowers I have planted
Years ago out of fun will lie
Stale over my head to my grave.
Sometimes I think about death. But I always find myself asking Why was I born? That bothers me more than dying. I wonder if we'll ever know. Good poem - got me thinking.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The inevitable for us all someday, nice poem!