the silent perfection
of the wilderness
makes no boasts
the song of the dead poet
has no pretense
and there is a value too
in the gray of the winter sky
when the color of the sky
and sea are one
love leaves in autumn
for we would not have her go
amid lilies and unaware of the cold
when they kissed
the world was out of balance
denied its centrality
it wobbled drunkenly
through the night
and though she cried
god puts none aside
to puzzle out the plan
when all the prayers were done
the silent shadow of a nun
beckoned him to gently come
and view a second of the past
that must forever last
a glimpse of chicken bones and ash
that vanish in a flash
that vanish
in the gray light of tomorrow
a soldier dies
for distant daylight
mother's cries
and though the dress
is neatly tied
no blush will fall
upon the bride
Adrian Hammer didn't know
the use of any winter snow
or why the world must move so slowly
with large investments in the town
his stocks were up and never down
he believed that all he'd lost was found
in his respect the county round
he did not die a flashy death
but old and tired just went to rest
his friends all thought it for the best
the mud upon my shoes
becomes the life
upon my age
if I look closely
and remember
I will behold
no plan I have begun
and no regret
that did not hold me
in the passion of life
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This means, a great big SIGH As we look thru life Before we die A mixture of all things Good and bad, happy and sad, With deep surrealistic rings. I liked it, causes sensations more than anything else. Feelings hard to describe but new and original
Thanks. I see perhaps I don't need to explain it. You got it exactly.