The Man Of Hope Poem by Boyan Deam
The Man Of Hope
Of man...a hope a dream a note....wanting all and always more.....little does a man know....his hope is poor....just let it go. The gift of life....can go no further...than to a box to take you under...and while treated bathed in natures gift....he throws away to find the biggest rift. The highest mountain....the road that perch....while whining everything that life emerge. In pain and vain his lessons learned....only to uncover.. and recover.....the dust he turned. Once more and once for all.... perfect circle beats to rhythm...... not a call.
I've only read a few of your poems so far, but I especially like this one. I sense a Buddhist influence. It reminds me of hiking which, to me, is a gift in itself. Not a minute of hiking is painful; the pain comes the next day in fatigue and soreness. This poem left me with questions because some past presidents called themselves the Man of Hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/1/2024 12:14:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
If I were a poet, I'd write a poem about the pain I experienced this morning; but, since I'm not one, I'll simply say, ‘Ouuuuuch... ouch, ouch. Ouch, ouch… ouuuuuch.’