No one grumbles among the oyster clans,
And lobsters play their bone guitars all summer.
Only we, with our opposable thumbs, want
Heaven to be, and God to come, again.
There is no end to our grumbling; we want
Comfortable earth and sumptuous Heaven.
But the heron standing on one leg in the bog
Drinks his dark rum all day, and is content.
No one grumbles among the oyster clans, And lobsters play their bone guitars all summer. Only we, with our opposable thumbs, want Heaven to be, and God to come, again. a very good poem. tony
right.. but maybe this is inescapable when an animal (as we, human beings, are) get the gift of 'dreaming a different universe'.. ;)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'But the heron standing on one leg in the bog Drinks his dark rum all day, and is content' - Loved these concluding lines of the poem.