True! 'Being early plucked is sour to taste.'
How fulfilled man could've been, and not in haste;
But for him the tongue choose death
And a brief breath, pieced with paste.
Give no 'Eve's answer, '
Let your yes yes, and no no.
Greediness!
And why would they fight over one when many unplucked?
But to put Him to the test!
Or aren't there more to go a dozen to each mate?
For we could see better than swimming in this jest,
And die earlier than eighteen.
There'd be no cancer, menopause, or pain in the chest.
Hmm! If men were God
What wrath would befall humanity.
But now we're youths even at a hundred;
And endowmed with power for creativity.
Mercy 'hath begotten us again into lively hope'!
But 'whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem