Is fire what lets us live and love and be?
It with its flames it hypnotizes us,
I stare, it listens and with it I flee,
Away I go, into a cozy dream.
The fire, it burns away the lives ahead;
The houses and their contents lost to foe,
And even people as they lie in bed,
It is a dreaded curse from down below.
Here is a question we must come to meet:
Is it the foe, or is the foe ourselves?
So cold we are, without some sort of heat,
And sausages, they will not cook themselves.
But fire has beauty like a movie star;
We need to use the fire responsibly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Willma, it isn't good form to compliment yourself, leave it to others if you want an 'honest' assessment of your work. Cheers, Jerry