Lord preserve us from the club of old boys
Their ill founded confidence and the
Braying noise, of their worn out certainties.
Spare us the pomposity that passes for wisdom
Their personal right to govern a kingdom.
Where are the thoughtful, the well informed
The weighers up of pros and cons?
They might do the 'right thing', alas not needed,
Their wise counsel would not be heeded
By the honourable club of simpletons.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a lovely poem, well presented thoughts thanks for sharing