Hope: twisted image seen through mental mask,
Accepted self-delusion counterfeit,
Perhaps to help man’s conscience counter fate,
Perhaps to tint the rainboy. Many ask
In disarray the question 'What joys last? '
Now, the Present, an elastic date,
Extends until it snaps, while 'soon' is late.
So little time remains till we are 'Past'.
Some think themselves a mirage, say their task
Allotted compensating former state
Misguided! yet in times when troubles spate
A help for blind from foetus to the cask.
So though some cling to crutch, to token creeds,
Karmic beliefs as such seem broken reeds.
(20 December 2006)
for previous version see below
Hope is a mirrored image of man's mask,
Arranged in manner often counterfeit,
Perhaps to help his conscience counter fate,
Perhaps to tint the rainboy. Man may ask
In disarray the question 'What joys last? '
Now, the Present, an elastic date,
Extends until it snaps, while 'soon' is late.
So little time remains till we are 'Past'.
Some think themselves a mirage, say a task
Allotted is to compensate their state,
Mistaken! yet in times when troubles spate
A help for blind from foetus to the cask.
So though some need a token creed as crutch
Karmic beliefs seem broken reeds as such.
21 November 1991
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem