Here he is, with money, in concerts, fast as lightning,
in movies, airplanes, mansions and vessels,
with platinum disks, girls fainting whenever appears;
all in his service, delivered around his boots.
- Enjoy yourselves...keep a distance from the stage.
just love him tender, love Elvis Presley true!
Yet, stays unmoved with all happenings around him,
for joy is an elusive thing, offers nothing new to grasp.
He resorts in the studio with friends, until dawn,
creates now with what is seemed to be unrelated
and becomes excited singing gospel and spiritual,
as in the past, when was a snotty kid close to believers
when used to co-chant hallelujah in the church of Tupelo*,
his poor town, though so rich in such a high exultation.
© JosephJosephides
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem