When will I know that the joy has run out? 
How will I know that there is evil about? 
Who will tell me how to be? 
Is this whole decision up to me? 
No it is, for I can see all of the people with joy and glee.
The world, it keeps turning, never skips a beat, 
If only it could hold still for one moment...wouldn't that be neat?                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    