When the heart tires and the throbs are recalled,
Thinkers pass their souls in instants that retire;
When the arrow falls and destroys the broken body
Hands are clasped, yet for ever are parted,
To the lives sundered can Time bring rejoining,
Adoration is a throb of rejoicing, in rejection
When rejecting is the opposite of our lives,
But the spirit remembers, to the sense of losing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem