the rain is pouring down
a sweet but mournful sound
but no one has to die amid the flood
we know the end will come
we'll hear the beating drum
as judgment falls to wash us in the blood
but we were promised then
when earth comes to its end
there's be no need to build another ark
it may be fire or ice
that will exact the price
infernos grow from just a single spark
and I've been cold too long
if fire must end my song
then I will pray that it is truly hot
reminding me of youth
and love and faith and truth
till icecloud cold is finally forgot
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sometimes, really, I have the impression that your poems, Barry are better than those of R.Frost which refer to the same matter....This one here is at least as great as those of Frost.
Thanks Dimitrios. That is high praise. Obliviously also, I hold with those who favor fire.