A story ‘tis of a noble tailor,
A great sage in the garment of lay soul,
In ocean that be life a skilled sailor
In search of a hallowed path as his goal.
A king once came to him homage to pay,
And gifted a pair of scissors of gold
That left the sage sober and somewhat cold,
In wisdom to decline, no more to say.
What may I give O great sage? Asked king,
Give me just a small needle for stitching.
Scissors cut things, diminish and divide,
Needles strive to bring them back together,
Bring broken hearts fallen apart to dither,
I wonder if scissors can cut false pride.
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- Reflections | 03.05.08 |
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Scissors cut things, diminish and divide/Needles strive to bring them back together......here lies the essence sir! An excellent work carrying wisdom....10
Another old poem never commented upon comes to your attention to be appreciated, thank you so much, Dr Swain.