The day and night move and move
As the beginning and never ending life
I am born as the baby in the morn
And dead at night as an old man,
Said to be born and dead again
In-between, the life sings with its songs
Dancing
In-between, the life struggles with pain
Weeping.
The man who becomes a sentence
With a subject and predicate
Is enjoying the life with a full stop.
The man who becomes a sentence
Without a subject and predicate
Is suffering with a comma or a question mark,
Till he dies and vanishes in thin air
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem