Pegasus flew through my window this afternoon,
M’thought he’d never come, but he came quite soon.
There’d been a tiny silver wet element on a lash of my eye,
T’id not mean t’was I forlorn or t’would die.
Nay meant contrawise for ‘twas but the twinkling of a dream,
A dream yet to become an idea, yet to become a physical scheme.
‘Twas telling me I was free for a while from that ‘old foe lethargy’s pine,
‘N I was now released to follow free thoughts of mine.
But those thoughts have to be put into action,
With a correlated compaction.
Can’t always find the optimum labour to follow,
But any ‘ol task’ll do till the morrow.
The next sunrise will find jobs of it’s own,
And faith in ourselves will shepherd us ‘round town.
So I was rejuvenated by a bright light on my seer,
Which helped me grasp the day with endear.
I am but a pedlar in life’s thoughts: - a pioneer,
So what is your magic remedy that helps you persevere?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem