Veracities of existence appeal not to I but to the ill,
Appeasingly they endeavor to render their will,
They choose to subsist amongst a gradual decay,
Of countenance’s despicably amid a great folly this day,
Resonant life, disconcerted and fragile to the core,
To whom do you bawl and stealthily implore?
When the glow grows dim with an uncertain twist,
Know, the malevolence of age you cannot resist,
Though escape can be met by a minds altered reroute,
Melancholic reprieve could do little to lengthen this bout,
Retribution gained through infancy’s grave,
If sentiment shared, rendered a mortal hand to be brave,
From this day forth and to the end, let this populace call,
Before callous misfortune cause even the mighty to fall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Intriguing piece, structurally condensed to fit the rhyme. great