For all the many things that have been;
For the ups and downs that man has seen;
He looks for an answer;
Over the mountains and down under the sea;
Man is ever discontent even after all that he could be.
His wants drove him out of his abode;
New wants added to his restlessness as he rode.
He chose never to stop;
If not the master, he became the pet;
Man is ever discontent even after all that he could get.
For not many of his wants are met;
For many he is yet in debt.
He was never a content species;
His disgruntlement, for all wars, became the key;
Man is ever discontent even after all that he could see.
His cardinal needs were food, shelter and clothing;
And later, for his limitless wants, he began gloating.
For his needs, not his wants;
He was provided enough at will;
Man is ever discontent even after all that he could kill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem