In a frenzied fit
A drunken sot squealed wild:
' The world is so small
'Just turn around after all
'And you are beguiled.... '
He fell into a close by pit,
Ecstatic, yet foiled
To find that sleep
Was due to him now
In his own trance
He kept his smile -
A blind, empty glance
As if on him, the while
Revelation did dawn
To transmute the being
If none sought him
He would still be there
To be in line and prim,
And drivel and grin
As if the world is his win..!
Often one finds in surprise
How infinite is compromise...!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem