All things that are and those that have yet been,
Are but mere waves on times eternal flow,
All that the world doth see and has yet seen,
Shall fade away from sight, a mere shadow;
Wherefrom do these immortal waves arise,
That labor on to kiss their native shore,
How many suns shall rise and set and rise,
Each just the same as that which set before.
How shall a man, a mote be truly free
Of flux in cyclic time-hope! It stands
Alone, bids us, 'repose in destiny',
An answer to the man who understands-
That life but leads us to our destiny,
As myriad rivers end -all in the sea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Like your use of Shakespearean sonnet form and how destiny is like a current flow that leads us into fulfilling its goals, but what if your free will is going against the currents of your destiny? Will this lead to failure?