Some thoughts like playful kittens trip ahead
And trip up Time which would no freedom leave
Nature’s instincts which in love believe,
Denying four dimensions and Death’s dread.
Remember this when old, when your fair head
Is white with age against which no reprieve,
No solace may be found, should you deceive
Emotions which Time’s motions should stop dead.
Veneers we sneer at though some fools are fed
A diet of mixed mirages, then grieve
Into their graves before they grace receive,
Like zombies [s]hell-bound ere their hour is sped.
Let thus this lesson light our common fate,
And Name The day, no longer hesitate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem