In a cave I am living, I like to spelunk
and discover the chasms and caverns,
but when I emerge I intend to debunk,
in the town getting tipsy in taverns.
I’ll have a great time there, and drink single malts
that make me more mellow and bland
adapting to light and egregious faults
of the world only I understand.
I learn from the shadows what happens outside,
spelunking, debunk what I see,
reluctantly willing to act as a guide
for the hoi polloi who must agree
that a cave is the best place to be if you wish
to withdraw from the world and to watch;
I’m a loner who judges, and stay in my niche
which I only will leave to drink Scotch.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very very insightful.