I am not here to compete with dead poets.
Or those with pseudo ambitions,
To foster claims this is what they do.
My depictions are alive,
To represent times lived today.
I wear no mask to imitate,
Those from a past who have passed away.
This is two thousand and twelve!
Not the seventeen hundreds.
Although there are many,
Wishing these times to return.
The landscape today,
Has more censors and critics...
Desiring the past for them will stay.
But even today will decay to rust, dust and fade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice one Lawrence usual you know how to write man