The lathe of mind here has no end,
The turning world it's truth to fill
Brother fights brother, there is no win
As each the other's blood must spill;
The enemy of enemy is my friend.
Minute by minute, it becomes the past,
Let's laugh at fate and giggle at chance
Sorrow won't stay, happiness goes fast,
We're lately come to the world's old dance,
And he laughs best who laughs the last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem