there was this story of
the plague written by Camus
who described a doctor whose
heroism kept him alive till
the end.
it is the story of a purpose
that never wavered, to serve
and not to be served.
the plague took so many lives
and the living had not much time
even to bury them one by one
as decently as tradition might
dictate.
the usual people changed, the
scenes kept on changing like
a chameleon, sort of a mirage,
that looks watery from a distance.
at the end of the story, it was
the doctor who told us what
really happened, how some people
were subjected to the tests of
life and how they miserably failed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem