Believe in this. Young apple seeds,
In blue skies, radiating young breast,
Not in blue-suited insects,
Infesting society's garments.
Believe in the swinging sounds of jazz,
Tearing the night into intricate shreds,
Putting it back together again,
In cool logical patterns,
Not in the sick controllers,
Who created only the Bomb.
Let the voices of dead poets
Ring louder in your ears
Than the screechings mouthed
In mildewed editorials.
Listen to the music of centuries,
Rising above the mushroom time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Let the voices of dead poets ring louder in your ears... A lovely line bristling with insight. A good piece of poetry, well articulated and nicely penned. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.