Not Joy Sang He Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
Not Joy Sang He
Not joy sang he
But
Always drear
And
Always sad:
He saw Futility in All that be:
He was a pessimist
And yet a realist.
With broken heart
He sang with magic tongue
The haunting of decrepit beauty
The joys of pain:
His Voice has long
Long haunted me:
His Soul breathed in me
Despair-with-beauty
And thus sang I too
Not always
Despair-with-beauty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/29/2026 12:49:05 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
