Between passage of time
and reality sublime
you sit with a mark
that unfolds history,
where requiem
is carved in masonry
and wreaths
embrace steel
honoring lives
time and time again;
but low and behold
you lift a hand
to cheer your lot
fraught with many
a gleeful bunch,
gifting you
forever joyful
with love and happiness
in a clarion call
not to worry:
it's your Birthday! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem