All modern things are not always the best,
Be they in thoughts or acts or in approach!
The modern Man is so differently dressed,
But unlike Man, same way stays the Cockroach.
The Wheel of Time will turn, bringing back old;
If change is good, Man goes to childhood-years;
Like Gold that stays always the metal Gold,
’Tis best to cry and shed but natural tears.
Sometimes, Man forgets what he keeps doing;
He’s safe as long as he stays near Nature;
But shocks, calamities keep Man thinking;
He checks his works, habits in the future.
Some change must come but it must be for good;
But who would like deteriorated food?
6-26-2001
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem