Life’s Tune, Captive In The Memory-Cage Poem by Abul Kayyum

Life’s tune, the captive in memory-cage, cause the long future to caper.
It’s a strange land, O brother. The exulted generations are on reciting
hymn for the shedded roses. And they lye at length
on a stage of endless, burnt noon.
The Past, as if, is a strong cartooned hero
Worn with an undergarment. Science is fallen defeated
under his stupid muscles.

It’s a strange land, O brother. Even the scholars, not bound
Within their limits, bid advance farewell to the future after taking
Blissfull puffs in their age-old, broken hubble-bubbles.
And here the priests are too memory-struck orphans
who know only to protect the elephant-shadows
Of their ancestors.

Past glories are sang from a damp magnetic tape.
Lectures delivered by the leaders uphold the ages of the Dead
That lead the future to weep.
It’s a strange land, O brother. The exulted generations are on reciting
hymn for the shedded roses. And they lye at length
on a stage of endless, burnt noon.