Life a long voyage of pilgrimage,
And actors we all acting on stage,
Who, for a rare applause
That we might hope to cause,
Love to linger on to prison cage.
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And we all might think we are great actors, while in truth we are no more than buffoons in the eyes of a spoil-sport called Fate, Fortune, or Destiny. And applause we see is gossamer gauze. The voyage guide gives no tour programme. The director of the stage-play gives no script. The destiny provides no prompt. And still we hope for applause!
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Musings | 05.09.15 |
Though this is a philosophical poem it has immense beauty of your poetic mastery..the poem and your note, both are excellent and speak the truth...lovely
In a vast cosmic beach there might lie gems and jewels, but they are of no avail till a traveler comes along lays his/her hand on it. I am glad this poem of 2015 is meeting one such traveler
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poem about life's journey.Nobody knows what lies ahead.We are but puppets in the hands of destiny.