Read Proverbs last night
and feel deeply depressed;
what happened to my quest
for wisdom, what happened
to the search for words with
insight, what is the result of
my attempts?
What happened to my ideal of
thinking before I speak, contem-
plating spiritual peace and how
to attain it - why did I think such
barbed-wired thoughts that my
emotions and feelings
launched a revolt?
How did I end up with this dry
political text, why did the world
close up like a scorching desert,
why did I lose the tracks leading
to a green oasis of trees meant for
rest? Why did the roses wither
and die?
Wisdom just doesn't come to one, like a magic pill you buy at the store.
Margaret, nice poem. Some of the lines look continuous though.. in a poem there need to be breaks, and for a good reason. Best wishes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
its a good poem keep writing andf maybe you will find the answr