What am I?
Who am I?
In the end I will die.
On the throne
One who shone
Then in grave he is thrown.
I was gold
But now sold
And my body will become cold.
Life who hath
Must face death
Time will stop so will breath.
In the grave
Who is brave?
Life's account he must give
I was born
With no thorn
When I die kins will mourn
World is fruit
Bitter and brute
And is mortal top from root
Someone cries
Tears in eyes
Some are happy when relative dies
One who grows
End he knows
All he reaps what he sows
All want fame
Work for name
Right from birth when they came
Life is just
Like iron rust
To prevent shine paint it must
God will see
Who is free
Then in heaven he will be
So do good
Wear bright hood
And at end enjoy heavenly food
God is kind
Make your mind
To obey Him let us bind
O my God
Everyone's lord
Prevent us all from your sword.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem