I Am Old (And Tired) Poem by Fred Babbin
I Am Old (And Tired)
I have had a few strange middle-of-the-night dreams/confusion with reality.
Do I dream?
Am I awake?
I close my eyes
And I am moved.
In which world am I? (Both)
It will be neither (When?)
Then.
Then I will be
Serenity
Je pense, donc je suis. -Descartes Je reve, donc je ne suis pas. -Cocteau. (No, not really. But there would be some nice symmetry here if Jean had said that, mais non?) Merci, G
I love the volleying of words and the profundity lurking there in your economy of words.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 10:31:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
The concentration of effect could not be greater. There is nothing that does not need to be there.