the mind stops working
the blood stops flowing
the sun stops shining
the rain starts pouring
the flowers all die
my mind is blank
my heart no longer works
this life is over for me
today is done
this is the end
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Each moment is an end to the moment before, death to the moment that was, creating the new moment, the moment that is. Each moment is birth to a new moment, while it is also death to the old moment. Every moment that was can never be, and every moment that is, is. There is no way to bring on new moments, unless the old ones die. Joyful, sad, happy or not, all we have is what is birthed, for the other one is gone in a twinkling of an eye.