Open your eyes to the ravings of a disordered mind,
Observe lunacy in its finest hour.
'I am but mad north-northwest.'
Random images flash across the canvas;
They depict much, but mean little.
Recall of an ever-fading memory,
Very soon it is forgotten.
Fumbling to hold onto those memories,
But what man could hold water in his hand?
Lavishing in a past ecstasy is living
In an every-shrinking house.
Languishing in a past sorrow is drowning
In an ever-increasing sea.
Why does pain and sorrow stay
And joy and mirth go away?
Why doesn't it stop raining?
Under the moonlit sky sits the starry child
Alone on the beach, alone in his heart.
Ever wishful, he looks upwards
To the stars- they look dream-laden tonight.
He closes his eyes
But remains the same...
Their treachery knows no limits.
He looks upon the water
And sees their treachery double.
His eyes are full of water
And still involved in sleep
And yet, he does not weep.
'A dream itself is but a shadow.'
The moment approaches when life begins to stir,
The curtain falls. Exit night. The mischief ends.
(11 August 1995)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so evocotive....you made me see a picture i enjoyed...i think most people will...so its a very good poem...well written....regards linda