We are born with
sublime innocence
For our first breath,
touch, sight and speech
Is full of serenity.
We spend the first half
of our years learning,
and gaining experience;
for which we need
to acquire wealth, money!
All vanity.
We spend the later half
Of our years protecting
For survival of
Loved ones, our life’s
Savings and income
We die and all we get
Are people remembering
For dust in the wind
Is all we become.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Filled with futility yet rich in reality. Well done my friend.