In all my wealth
I can’t control health
It grips my mind
Like a thief from behind
What is beauty if it fades away?
How long will I last till that day?
Who will be to see that day?
Both rich and poor will face my way
In days I lie
But now like wasted pie
Will that day delay
With gold and power to the ground I lay
In peace and sorrow
My life is borrowed
What will be its gain?
Will it cause me pain?
Today my borrowed life returned
What will he say at my turn?
Will I be thrown amongst thorns?
That day will surely come
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem