Is life a narration of redemption?
In youth, you get chance to reclaim,
make amends, start afresh,
even reappear in a new avatar.
But as life progresses,
its terminal nature stares
in the face with time dwindling.
The urge to fulfil wishes
of love, company, legacy
gets stronger, but the pathos
of finite time makes ageing
yearn for them with anguish, regret.
Yet a faint belief lingers: the door
to redemption not completely shut.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem