Being cascades our way deprived of petition
Named there in only once
Shorn of chance for stepping back
Of course we live,
Starved of initiation and direction
We select just how to animate in the wilds of this existence
And reveries like soul fireflies crisscross our reminiscence lanes
Every so often striking authenticity
And in other epochs just going through
In magnificent and abortive meander
On a godsend convention, we passage to where vocation choses
While on harm's lanes,
We travel en route for providence's prime courses
‘Til we bid time to fare well with her subsequent sojourners
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem