Forty years a Poet,
sixty years a man
Calling to me distant,
my last Etesian
Time at best deceptive,
a trinity of masks
Present truth accepted,
the one not first or last
The drums now beating softly,
their rhythm stills my heart
My spirit free to chase the wind,
—this world I now depart
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March,2017)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem