WITH AGE THE SICK AND SUFFERING MULTIPLY
With age the sick and suffering multiply
Also, the dead.
We carry with us
More and more sad stories
More and more pain
Of people lost.
We live in a world of prayer for them
And sadness at their not being here.
We do not grow old alone
But with all those we have cared for.
Life is not easy,
And we go on as we go on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
that is sweet, i'm starting to see that my grandpa's getting older and we suddenly realise that there not always going to be there, ANOTHER AMAZINGLY WRITTEN POEM! ! ! ! !