The evolving world looks at me every five or so years.
When something that is different has stopped being different.
And something that is the same is no longer there.
And the criticism cannot be it being different.
Because unless we accept the future, then it isn't the future.
And unless we learn from the past, then it isn't the past.
For time is a gift, and cannot be returned.
And its friendship gives infinity to the spirit of man,
And in his ability to learn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent twist on how we view time and our need to accept its ever present movement.