And should we shed a tear,
For each and every year?
Or should we rather cry in rage
At each and every passing age?
Oh, The youth, when young,
Think every day is very long.
That youth and life will never end,
and that time can easily be spent.
All those plans that were made,
Before memory began to fade,
What happened to them all,
Did they all crumble and fall?
Now that we sit here and reminisce,
All the things that we still miss,
Now as the sun slowly sets
Some of the past one forgets.
We find our lives has been filled
With love, sorrow and dreams unfilled.
With laughter, tears, fears and joy
and some things that still annoy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem