The talk of change
isn’t strange.
It isn’t new or witty.
Yes Vigorous
But Ambiguous
It fits the unchanging mood of this city.
A ‘monger of hope’
A dangling rope
For the anxious host.
For what will differ,
From the stiffer,
Candidate for the post?
Haven’t we caught
That Change is not
A virtue all alone.
When it’s for vice
there’s a price
That we someday must atone.
Now I am too
Forever true
To the call of optimism
But I hope n’ pray
We don’t stray
From heavenly true altruism
I can’t abide
human pride
forsaking the truth
in passion hot
for a diff’rent lot
from the lotto vendor’s booth.
Please speak clear
To my ear
Your ideas 'vernal'
Before I make
Another mistake
For my hope too springs eternal…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem