Why do we put off till tomorrow,
the things we should do today?
Why is it hard to be loving,
both in deeds and words we say?
Why do we feel it important,
to dwell upon the past?
To reminese about our youth,
when we were young, dumb and fast?
Why does the preasent scare us?
Why do we choose not to see;
The beauty of today,
set before both you and me.
For tomorrow is not certain,
and alive we may not be;
Only today is in our grasp,
enjoy life so precious and free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem