You sullen pig of a man
you force me into the mud
with your stinking ash-cart!
Brother!
--if we were rich
we'd stick our chests out
and hold our heads high!
It is dreams that have destroyed us.
There is no more pride
in horses or in rein holding.
We sit hunched together brooding
our fate.
Well--
all things turn bitter in the end
whether you choose the right or
the left way
and--
dreams are not a bad thing.
Patently belligerent preliminarily, retrospective in the middle, and concurring ultimately.
In the end, we all have our share of winters...
It appears like the speech of a Neanderthal shaman to his tribe. This write is not a poem.
all things turn bitter in the end whether you choose the right or the left way and- dreams are not a bad thing. very good poem. tony
all things turn bitter in the end whether you choose the right or the left way and- dreams are not a bad thing.....so true and impressive. A beautiful poem is well executed.
Dreams must be backed by appropriate action and hard work for their fulfilment. Well deserved classic of the day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
People attack me for my beliefs. I respond by saying you have no right to attack my dreams that's what this poem says to me