I sit on the shacky balcony of time
Entangled by the gossamer of its web
I count the tickling tinctures of its arm
I feel it's tentacles spreading to grope me
Like a fly, consumed in the intrigue
I sit in amazed, how I used to stalk the city
With my maverick look as I stroll by
So long since it has been, since my hair
Once shiny raven black has been combed
Now kinky and dusty of grey
As I walk past the shadows of time
I shudder and wonder how time travels
Like lightning it struck on my clock
And left an artifice on my buttocks,
Dimples waning away from once delicate hips
A fallen deck of cards, are now heaps
Time has taken a stroll on my teeth
I used to laugh to the glee of angels
Now I titter with a hand on the mouth
To cover the few cinders of iron
The last remnants of time in my mouth
When the curtains of time come down
And every will inside us gets void
The flesh shall scatter into ashes
Time shall tell and reign.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poem climaxes with a clear statement of its theme, namely, TIME SHALL TELL AND REIGN. What makes it so exciting to read is the lines are packed with images that support this theme. And the images are so vivid, so revealing, so disorienting that I have no doubt this is the simple TRUTH OF HUMAN EXISTENCE. It's often said that TIME of the enemy of the Lyric Poet, for example Shakespeare sonnets. You know from your political experience that time is not the worst or most immediate enemy. But this is not a Poem of 'Witness This poem belongs to the great past of Lyric Poetry, a past that still lives among skilled poets, like yourself.