July 18
In some unknown moment,
I was born upon this earth.
Before that, I knew nothing—
Where had I been? What was my worth?
What was I, where was I, and why?
If rebirth follows its endless art,
How many times have I come and gone,
How long have I wandered this earthly part?
When this life has run its course,
And this body returns to dust,
Where shall I journey after that?
What new story awaits my trust?
Nothing do we truly know;
Only the span from birth to death
Seems to belong to us—
Like a river flowing between two banks.
Even those we call our own—
Were they ours by fate or chance?
Did destiny bring them to our lives,
Or were they always part of our dance?
Drifting upon the ocean of time,
Like pieces of wood upon the sea,
We meet, we part, we move along,
Whether kindred souls or strangers they be.
None bears a sorrow less than mine,
Yet still we choose to live each day.
We carry endless pain within,
While shouldering the world’s array.
The dazzling colors of this world
Awaken ever-growing desire;
The more we drown within its charm,
The more we feed ambition’s fire.
Here is suffering, there attraction;
Our minds bewildered, hearts unsure.
In life’s mysterious mist we wander,
Our spirits restless, our bodies endure.
Before this mystery is unveiled,
This mortal form will fade away.
In the reckoning of sin and virtue,
We rise and fall along the way.
— Vidya
Translated by chat gpt
vidus 
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