My destiny is curved in the stone.
I try to change it; knowing the impossibility,
I open the door of ambiguity,
And try to lose myself in totality
But loosing myself I find the real me,
The me, who want to continue to exist,
Even though the ailing heart threatens,
To stop and end this numerous torture.
My ailing heart will fail me soon,
And no one will remember me.
But I want to live;
In the smiles of the babies,
In the scent of spring blossom,
In the colours of rainbows,
In the shower of monsoon,
In the falling leaves of autumn,
In the snow cold mountains of winter,
In the gushing streams that flows through my village.