...the inquisition…
What a world full of molds
The old toad told!
Load of gold’s from fraud he told.
Happy is he who
Whose world of cold
The gold from fraud!
...the reply…
Yes! The younger toad told
Of the old gold
From he who told-fraud
But is he who dug
From the cave cold
And is he who found the gold?
Added the younger toad
Bah! He sold and he bought
The gold misunderstood
...in the tribunal…
Cannot be false nor
Cannot be true-fraud
But, the younger toad
Sure of he misunderstood
By he who told
The re-told cold-gold
From the deep cave of old
...in the annals of fraud…
What a world!
Sigh and cry he the old toad
Who carried full of gold
And the other toad
Who collected the false-fraud?
And gave like a blink
That made he see the gold
But not the cave-cold,
Alas! He asked
What fraud he told?
Is it the old gold or the cave of old?
And both took their leave
Wondering in cold
...at a glance…
Remember old toad
The cave is always dark
But can taste light if you give a spark
The gold is always cold
But can be warm
Upon the palm of your hand
And lastly
The fraud of old
Is nothing but
The story misunderstood
By the miners’ mine
Full of cold gold hidden in the
Cave of old.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem