All men like weeds,
Exist for a while then is wiped away.
We're but dust in the wind.
A tiny little vapor,
We exist this instant,
But cease to be the next
B'cos gravity happens to us all.
We all rise and fall, rise and fall.
We create, we destroy.
We give life, we take life.
We love and hate with the same heart
As we bless and curse with the same lips.
We're all frail and flawed.
We live, and we die.
Some are dead yet alive
Dominated by what we ought to dominate.
Another alive in death,
Their lore echoes across time
While the legends of some others,
By time Erased
What is man?
What is life?
What is the sum of our existence?
Whatever they may be,
Time conquers them all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This cannot be understood until the key words, " conquer" and " time" have a satisfactory definition. It looks as if we will remain in a constant quandary over the use of any discussion about the poem. At any rate its good try about another thing we don't understand.