The pie-eyed piper of Hamlet
by TD Euwaite
He draws long and hard
Then remembers
Why he receives payment fortnightly,
The chilled breath shivers the flute song he plays
Perhaps he should heat some more air
A light is all he craves
Ahhhhh, his song is simpler now
The melodious clouds,
Dream ringlets bring an imaginary feast to his table
Hunger is difficult to administer
But still, he plays the pipe
And he draws another breath,
…long and hard.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
irony brought out well! loved the read!