A waiting-room where worries surface soon,
Nor may be dissipated, jobless list
Perversely daily grows, and pessimist
Emphatically are all who lampoon
Realities unjust as stage buffoon.
Useless to call, the problems will persist.
Employment rates fall further, chances missed
Black tarnish barrow boy and silver spoon.
Life hangs between the optimist who'd croon
A ceaseless siren song whose very gist
No sad end entertains, and realist
Caught by statistics which won't play 'le clown'.
'Heaven helps him who helps himself' is said,
Expressing wishful thinking's leaps ahead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem