No stimulus to awake and take hold.
To unfold and advance there's no chance.
Family, country and work justify this shirk.
No chance to change face with duties of this pace.
No time to wonder if life is a blunder.
Then strange fortune strikes; the likes of infirmity.
Pain that drains the body can fill the
A find that there's more that counts,
Really amounts to living.
Tragedy prevails when wails turn to self-pity.
Fear shears the mind of its flesh.
With no means to refresh, it will shrivel and groan,
Leaving the body to expire alone.
But from the darkness of disease
Can emerge the light of thought, bought with agony.
Enlightenment gained through sustained desire;
That fire that ignites the sparks of the mind.
What a find!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem