Manys a time I have talked
manys a time I have heard, but
when's the last time
any one's spoken a truly good word?
We get up early to work, then
go to bed so late
in between it's talk, talk, talk
there's simply no escape.
I sit around all day
playing my own song
pondering why with so much modern communication
the human family just can't get along...
On such a sunny day as this
it surely wouldn't hurt
to get on out there
and go to work.
Apples ripe and red are still a hanging
on that old tree, there's
no need to explain
what's so damn easy to see.
Sitting on the back porch we will watch
the setting sun when we're through -
too much talk though
will ruin the view.
It may seem lazy
but let it be understood
God loves the crazy
who've found peace and quiet are truly
at the heart of what is good.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another great poem by the master.
Thanks Lawerence! Peace my friend.