The butterfly lives in moments, not months
Yet has time enough to fly
While fools long for immortality
Yet have no idea what to do, or why
And dreams can be dangerous things
Looking real enough in your sleep
But what you want, rarely matches
What you dreamed that it would be
For people are not creatures of logic
But of prejudice, pride and vanity
Each, overwhelmed in the night
Unwept, unknown, forever doomed
Like the warm rays of the sun
Falling around a helpless thing
We are as a new born babe
Unable to control our own destiny
For fate resides in the hearts of fools and fanatics
And gives way to jealousy, fear and hate
While wiser souls, are filled with doubts
Reaching for them, like gathering clouds
We will each, pass this way but once
So, any good, or kindness we can give
Let us do it now, let us not wait
For we shall not pass this way again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem