However slow my progress to fame;
The winning of opulence and acquisition of name;
(And not the empty type that swallows sense)
May never meet my heavenly view of recompense.
I move at a curious pace;
The precarious motion of my days;
The jejune understanding of my dues
May escape my best knowledge though,
And this shall be less serious so.
May I recapture my original glue;
The once-upon-a- time touch of greatness.
My days upon the face of earth may be few
But I never shall from it take recess!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It was an outstanding poem. Great observation. Rich in imagery and style. Nice thoughts. I liked it very much. Voted it 10. Kindly read and also vote for my poem 'Abortion' on page 4.