Among the fools of commerce
Tempers flare;
Little or nothing makes sense:
Buyer beware.
There are carts loaded with angels,
Spraypainted with silvery dust,
Fictitious scenes of mangers
Down the throats of children thrust.
Somewhere in a forgotten corner
Lies a copy of Mahler's Sixth:
The tragedy of being human,
The suffering of existence,
No one buys the recordiing
As grubby hands envelop candy canes,
No end to all the mindless hoarding,
Stocking up for next year again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An inspiring write to show a great poet: not only the fine observer, but the philosopher's truth also the beauty lover... could I dare to wonder? ... Consumerism? A minute melting candy wins to centuries made for symphony... Thank you!