he can't conceal the future with the past
no longer does he hear the patient breeze
he knows that men and mountains cannot last
for both return to vast and primal seas
and yet he must record his feeble verse
and find his bench beneath the tree of time
and scrawl his notes for better of for worse
to seek his rest in some forgotten rhyme
for he is only wedded to this page
that like a bride appears in purest white
though he is weary with the weight of age
he lifts his chin and then begins to write
and he may chronicle some petty thing
or reach beyond the mortal human cage
beyond the golden sunrise and the spring
to grasp the hidden wisdom of the sage
A befitting tribute to a poet who has matured with age and shares his wisdom with the society. Thanks. though he is weary with the weight of age and he may chronicle some petty thing or reach beyond the mortal human cage
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I can only say you have accomplished both poetic goals you cite you chronicle the humble things around you AND dispense the sage's wisdom. But what really strikes me with a kind of awe is the perfection of form this poem embodies. Everything is contained within the four lines if each stanza, nothing is rushed or slighted, the formal balance makes all things precious and pleasing.. Its similar to the perfection of form which contains Lewis Carroll's nonsense verse. But your stanzas contain both common place truths and wise things.