Why do we trouble our souls?
With spears from tears.
Why make your enemies glad?
For being broke and sad.
Why? Worry?
Why do we at times live on the past?
Whence those day couldn't last.
Why do we still our dreams?
Wasting time on worries.
Why? Worry ?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem