Betwixt the life I breathe and death’s cold reign,
A slender thread doth bind the fleeting soul.
The one is swift to pass, the other plain,
In life’s soft breath, death steals its destined toll.
We chase the fleeting dream of endless skies,
Yet it slips away, ungrasped by mortal hand.
With every breath we draw, the dark time lies,
But here, within the present, we shall stand.
Then live this day, as though no end were near;
Let love and courage set the hearts ablaze;
For life itself is worthy, free from fear—
A treasure that both Time and Death do praise.
And when at last the road does reach its close,
The memory remains, as wind through rose.
Coda:
Wenn der Weg sich schließt, bleibt nicht der Lärm –
sondern das, was wir wirklich gelebt haben.
Und manchmal reicht dafür ein leiser Satz:
Erinnerung ist Wind in einer Rose.
A slender thread doth bind the fleeting soul.
The one is swift to pass, the other plain,
In life’s soft breath, death steals its destined toll.
We chase the fleeting dream of endless skies,
Yet it slips away, ungrasped by mortal hand.
With every breath we draw, the dark time lies,
But here, within the present, we shall stand.
Then live this day, as though no end were near;
Let love and courage set the hearts ablaze;
For life itself is worthy, free from fear—
A treasure that both Time and Death do praise.
And when at last the road does reach its close,
The memory remains, as wind through rose.
Coda:
Wenn der Weg sich schließt, bleibt nicht der Lärm –
sondern das, was wir wirklich gelebt haben.
Und manchmal reicht dafür ein leiser Satz:
Erinnerung ist Wind in einer Rose.
