The one who has now no taste
But the memories of the past,
And the rest is dust and ashes,
Deserves your timely glimpses
Of either respect or disrespect,
You cast the vote of contempt,
Or you put the mark of pathos
To show you value those ethos.
At times, so stunned by the fate,
Your heart turns too cold to act,
That's the way one's life drinks
The jar of droughts and floods,
That's the way one's life reads
The book of ups and downs!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem