An Elegy To A Rich Man Poem by Solomon C. Jatta
An Elegy To A Rich Man
Here lies the son of the soil
Parted from his blood, toil and moil,
Wherever gold shined there his heart is
And where the rags gather there is not his,
Where the wind bubble with sound
There you find him around,
A son the master to a servant lend
But time has forever made him to the ground attend.
Wherever gold shined there his heart is And where the rags gather there is not his, these lines tell a lot about the rich man. thank you very much. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/4/2024 6:04:53 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Vanity upon vanity is aptly captured in the poem. Well conceived and nicely crafted in good rhyme scheme with conviction. Thanks for sharing Solomon.