The gnawing lichen dissolve the mountains
In leisured nibbles of eternity.
When they rise at last from their long repast,
Who will have noticed the flicker of me?
Brief was I here, in my frozen moment,
Reveling in my tiny piece of now,
Bounded in my nutshell, largely content,
Blind to beginning, end, the why or how
Of the tale. Still I wonder, and envy
The lichen, chewing the granite like a cow
Its cud, ruminating so patiently
Over the pageant, as swift glaciers plow
The plains, and oceans flow and ebb between;
They view the epic plot, from beginning
To end spectators of every scene,
Where I glimpse one held pose, knowing nothing
Of the unfolding. I do not envy
The rough pale scales their immortality;
Only their witness of the great story.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poem. I really enjoyed reading it!