Who are we but victims
Fallen to the fate of Father Time
Whisked away from all familiarity
What once was is no longer
Left bewildered
Beyond our reach do sweet memories lie
As well as grim experiences that haunt
Still the strange nostalgia befalls us
No sooner than the frostbite settles
Shall wilted roses' petals fall
And all virtuous souls shall weep
For we cannot possess strength forever
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem