A race run once is never won,
But to take it often is the challenge,
What is life but just many runs,
The wise loosers never seek their revenge.
Our birth is the first race,
We rush to be released,
We see brightness in our parents' face,
And all the nurses are at ease.
In our childhood we rush to play,
We learn to be naughty and nice,
We were rewarded to be healthy and gay,
And we always thought we were wise.
In our teens we ran to win,
A race of hearts just for a heart,
In that rush some commit the sin,
Others cherish the memories as a precious art.
In our adulthood it's a race for wealth,
Some often miss our values and then repent,
The devils step in to ruin our health,
And we welcome that jealous serpent.
In our middle age we run after peace,
Experiences make many wise,
But the divinity does not come with ease,
The loosers still gamble with the dice.
In our oldage we race for heaven,
We visit temples we have not seen,
We do our best to get even,
Just to gain an entry to another world not been.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In our oldage we race for heaven, We visit temples we have not seen, We do our best to get even, Just to gain an entry to another world not been. how you so masterly show in picturesque ways of the way of life from the childhood to later old age....... marvelous poem. yes it is very much philosophical. thank you dear poet. tony