Laughing Buddha Poem by Etienne Charilaou
Laughing Buddha
And if I were not able
to hide under the table
when the earthquake hits?
And if the tornado crumbles it all
before I get to the shower stall
with my mattress and pillows?
And if the bullet or knife
finds purchase in my body
taking my life?
Then what remains of me?
A few words few will read.
Advice, if any, no one will heed.
So like my little Budai folk
I should laugh at life's silly joke.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/4/2024 11:53:53 AM # 1.0.0.1119
from one of the few who enjoyed it