Forever, like a moment, turns to dust.
Our puny minds ask, “How can one conceive
Rationally that other concepts must
Emerge through layers serving to deceive:
Vast tribute to what we accept on trust? ”
Even our scholars might in fact believe,
Reminding us to look beneath the crust,
In ways designed to comfort and relieve,
Still yet, prolonging lack of truth’s reprieve.
A moment must exist within its space,
Like space must still exist within its time.
Our understanding of the things we face,
Now born and bred in superstition’s clime,
Gains little wisdom for the human race;
Trampling natural reason, nature’s rhyme,
In manners only idiots embrace:
Most aromatic flavors of the thyme,
Evaporate, while cumulates the grime.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So true...........................