To bide beside belovèd or to stand
and serve through waiting only seems the same,
for death soon shall be shrugged off, understand
how mankind sloughs mortality, sin, blame.
Nature's ways were mystery that now
is jigsaw almost solved, regeneration
soon will bypass taboo - that holy cow
that tramples on both sainthood, sinning nation.
The Paradise some seek without delay
in Carpe Diem hides its pastures green
sublime and there's no piper god to pay
Pan plays fresh hand to trump historic scene.
How could one's death afford or pain or sorrow
when Death, left breathless, endless calls tomorrow.
(16 March 2012)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem