Ode To Ambition Poem by Debtoru Chatterjee

The worries upon my fevered brow
Appear in a strain, I know not how
And though through the prayer books I plough
That exhort the divine will to bow.

It is true that a man without ambition
Will seek praise, fame and valediction
And go that extra mile to win
The accolade of the high and public esteem.

If exalted dreams leave me care worn
Unable to fill my days with delight
Forever fearful that my powers would be shorn
Enveloped in the gloom of an endless night.

Oh Sense! Teach me rein in those winged dreams
That fascinate only to delude
Like those storm - born forest streams
That soon die out in autumn's prelude.

If we should rise but only to fall
Chasing the mirages that have us in thrall
Why do we still stoke the flame of fame
Ever to praise deprecate and blame.

I have known personages worshipped by nations
Yet long after they were laid to rest
Their infirmities revealed, ah, their disinterred reputations
Their noble deeds all laid low to waste.

Should we then become trite and commonplace?
Pursuing a timid and ordinary life
Doing those deeds that do not elevate
Us from the daily rhythm of ordinary strife.

Far better I feel to pursue high goal
And endeavour yet with equanimity of the soul
For it is better to have tried and failed
To be lost in the storm than never to have sailed!