Yesterday death said in passing...
'Someday it will be your turn, '
Always from dark mood harassing,
Never master, just intern.
Days awaken sleepy idler,
Death's chill lost to summer breeze,
Autumn's leaves show hidden color,
Spring's joy melting winter's tease.
Nature's cycles run like clockwork,
Hum with sound of rushing birth,
Evolution's crowning bulwark,
God's true plan for fledging earth.
How in life's ecstatic clamor,
Has death even got a prayer?
Time unwinding without stammer,
Endings really are not there.
Life unfolds as God would have it!
God is dead? ! Death has no voice!
Sleep in peace for morn will come yet,
Master's plan divulges choice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem