Judging The Apple Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
Judging The Apple
The dreadful scourge of leprosy
no introduction necessary,
blows clouds of poison gas
a warning to us all, do keep away.
A penalty of scars and foul decay,
soon sends its tentacles into the mind,
there is no cure, just hopeless melancholy.
Of those who do associate, to help
be it the nurses or the breakfast cooks,
not one will ever be without the gas,
they have been soiled beyond repair,
associates of epidemiology.
It is as if the brother or the spouse
had murdered even raped, all in cold blood,
and thus infected, like the germ of leprosy
all those of common origin with pus
that knows no barricades and no humanity.
Be warned, my friend, do pick them wisely,
lest you be judged just like the apple from the tree.
The apple is always judged by the tree it came from, and if that tree continues to produce bad fruit, it is cut down. The only problem is that it sometimes produces a good fruit as well, and the good fruit is always the one to pay the price for the bad one. Sad poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 12:39:36 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This little poem carries a real sting, Herbert. The poor apple, much maligned throughout history is indeed a lot like leprosy. Warnings about far-reaching associations seldom are heeded. I just read Molokai, a wonderful novel about what leprosy did to a young girl sent to that island at the beginning of the twentieth century. Your poem followed it quite well. Raynette