I can hear the children now,
competing with the songs
and lullabies of happiness,
of friendly frigate birds
while I, the one with fiery eyes,
wait for the darkness of the night
when inborn principles
and the kindness of humanity
shall be torn up like the old shirt
that priests do wear in private life.
Mind you, this is no case of obsolescence,
as, for a hoarder I do seldom part
with well-worn clothes and useless things,
yet this is a new age, new rules apply.
I shall look back for my approval,
will surely find it in medieval times,
you've taken out my heart with frigid hands
but while it manages its final beats
you will have found a simple piper
who only takes all of his pay in blood.
How frightening - the joyful noise of the children's shrill voices along with the piping, and the horrible looming figure of that other piper, waiting for his payment in blood. Makes me want to shiver and look over my shoulder in fear.
Profound mein F. The 'old chap' would have been pleased. Excellent...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, a most ugly and repulsive image of greed and evil. I fully understand where you're coming from, as you know, Herbs. Love and kindness to you, Gina.