I was once told life is made or unmade
Not on what cards the fate from afar lays
Upon man's lap, but on how well he plays,
On what happens not on acts of heavens,
But more on what he does to what happens;
That, destiny's a lazy man's charade.
Assured, I set off life's combats to win,
And just let go my life but by me led,
Playing the game of life— with cards dealt in,
Yet, wanting cake to bake, was left with bread
That oft was under baked or over burnt,
And life's lessons largely remained unlearnt.
Life's to be happy with bread, baking cake,
And know how most from given cards to make.
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Sonnets | 03.02.10 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful Sonnet! Sestet an octave are immaculately constructed!
Thank you Dr Swain