To Thomas Hardy.
Chance, coincidence and accident,
As the feud to character from ancient lore,
Initiate conflict with dialectic- materialism,
And you open vistas of modern doors.
Sitting ‘Under The Greenwood Tree'
You propagate your vision and set it free,
Yet weary you back in The Return of The Native ‘
And attain spiritual glory, rejecting Nature's grips.
Your Clyme, Henchard, Tess and Jude,
Are the stamps of man and woman -hood,
Through them your beacon -ray finds worldly hours ,
And men and women, erect their immanent towers.
Hey poet with clarity of vision, you leave your stretched soul,
Who wants success and failure? -struggle is the only goal!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem