Who shall command this aged ship?
Where wallowing and wontedness bellow remorseful tear,
That now, whence upon poignant acts being exhibited,
A quandary of mindless entreaty poised entranced he,
As the gongs of age’s menacing finally impeached,
He lay still and hoped for empathy’s first light,
No reprieve from love for the path of times forlorn,
Vivid depictions of grim encompasses solemn dreams,
Anarchism spells the state of wandered frame,
Dear to heart the placate of fatal assuage,
Capitulating verses of life’s sorrowful song,
Scattered recollections of verve and strides atoned,
Rules and laws shattered the limbs of triumph’s shortfall,
Idyllic ration of character hardly faltered through times demise,
With each passing, fades he more, an age wilts into nothingness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem