when I can longer read a book that holds me fast,
or listen to some music that I hold dear;
then I will know that nothing in this world does last,
then I will know that nothing sad, makes me shed a tear.
when I can no more walk down paths of solitary pleasure,
or see a view before me, that doesn't make me cry;
then I will understand that I've run out of treasure,
and I will no longer gaze with frank amazement at the sky.
when I can't find a happiness in loving only one,
or laugh at antics that cause me to yell out loud;
then I will know, my race is nearly run,
and soon the sunshine will be covered by a cloud.
when I no longer have the will to live each day,
when I would rather sleep and stay in bed;
then I will surely wither and quickly fade away,
and I will lie where people lie, when they are dead.
then my spirit will be free, as I lay this body down,
the flames of my cremation will fan the air;
and in a secret, new-found place will I be found,
the place that no one knows; I will be there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem