Death Poem by Phurpa Wangdi
Death
death is uncertain
no one ever has it objected
it haven't had a schedule
it comes and goes
no one dare complain
when it knocks your door
its icy hand sure
to make a touch
you cant but wait for it
no one escapes death
rich or poor
young or old
it has bias for none
wealth stops it not
innocence too is useless
when death comes
life itself surrenders
what can we do
nothing..nothing at all
but just to get prepared
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 12:01:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
