Think of Christmas without presents,
Think of Christmas without food;
Imagine just another holiday
Without that special, festive mood.
Stop and ask why you are giving
And what you want in return.
Is this the season’s proper purpose?
Should there be only self-concern?
Let the gifts be those of gladness:
Peace and love; an end to pain.
Let your thoughts be filled with sharing
And not obsessed with hopes of gain.
Reasons, just like wrapping paper,
Get torn up and thrown away;
The gifts, absorbed into your empire,
Become forgotten, like the day.
From the chaos find a moment,
Spend some time upon this thought:
True pleasure can only be given,
It’s not something that can be bought.
© Ray Mather 1989
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem