the trailing traumas of typified tyranny
and the sailing sun of fortunes glory
blending into a coyly mystery
in life, it happens willy-nilly
today i see my bloom
tomorrow i spell my doom
here i make it boom
there i make it boob
no one could decipher
the unraveled taint of nature
today is faster
tomorrow will be slower
it is up, it will be down, always remember
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem