A way of life a fortune told
A fortune spent before I am old
Scenes from life that flash past eyes
Bloodshot scarred from all the tries
Experience is all we get or regret, just regret,
Then handed down as we once stood
The bad the good but mostly good
Our thoughts dispel of weary dreams
Our best remembered with ease from dreams
But why the flesh cut from the bone?
Would feed no mind if on its own?
Our teachings scented with the truth
Pass through the queried minds of youth
The tale to tell must be it all and all it should,
The very bad the good, the very good,
I can sit here merry in gloated silence
I portrayed the truth and all its violence, aye.
Better for it? why who knows? me? Do I?
Well I told the tale and no-one did ever die. Or did they? aye.
If you've no stomach then lead a quiet life. not I.
I lived and I will pass it on, yes I. Aye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Our teachings scented with the truth Pass through the queried minds of youth The tale to tell must be it all and all it should, ...... your themes are original and your expressions. too. tony
Thank You Dr Brahmin, your comments are very welcome, I have returned after an absence to explore our wonderful language and wallow in its ability to create with only the mind as its tool.