A history of multitudes of lives
Never written, long forgotten now,
Lives lived in vain, the millions buried low:
Were they fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, wives?
What wonders did the ancients leave this world,
The Great Wall, Giza Pyramids et al!
Yet Man's conceited cultures rise and fall,
As His ashes to the winds are grimly hurled.
I think of what my life then might have been,
A slave of magic, steel, or simply stone,
Toiling all day long to merely hone
A monument to someone else's kin.
Pursue great joy one can, if only we
Are born perhaps to opportunity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem