LET ME LIVE LIKE THEM.
Let me live the beauty that exists around,
birds that fly without much care for what may come,
flowers living for today not caring for
wilting or their petals drifted by a storm.

Let me live like butterflies that never cry,
moving from a flower to a rose tree.
If a flower is depleted of its sweet,
that will not reduce its freshness or its glee.

Let me live like that poor man whose clothes are torn,
and his feet are black with dirt and give bad smell.
He will dance and thank his Lord when some dry bread
fills his stomach and makes him feel strong and well.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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