Life is bubble; snap is today
passing its gloom’s into tomorrow ashes.
It will be scattered all around.
Watching observing, but unable to speak.
Helplessly you will be suffering a-lot.
In your absence, you will be lost.
But at that stage, you unbounded zeal.
And all you’re pious efforts towards amicable means.
Will be having a thirsty desire for a support.
And in that situation a noble spirit alone.
Will convey your idea before the masses.
You will be credited for benevolent deeds.
Your great idea be your soul.
And the presence of this idea will be your immortality for ever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem